There is blood. So much blood. It seems almost to be raining from the sky. Arthur stands on the horizon, sword in his hand and murder in his eyes. The bodies of the sorcerers he's slain litter the ground around him, and Merlin stands in front. He's tied to a tree, helpless, as he watches Arthur come closer. He screams, but no sound comes out. Arthur raises his sword, no emotion in his face, and just before he swings, he speaks.

"You are a sorcerer. You are evil. You deserve this. Goodbye, Merlin."

Merlin screamed, bolting upright. This was not the first time he has had the dream, but it was the most intense one yet. He coughed, wincing when pain shot through his chest and abdomen. Luckily, the coughing didn't last long, and Merlin was able to catch his breath rather quickly. It only took a few seconds for him to notice blue eyes staring intensely from the foot of the bed, and a few seconds more to see who they belonged to.

"Arthur?" Whispered Merlin, throat throbbing from when he screamed himself awake. It was after he said the King's name that he felt the pressure and warmth of a hand on his leg.

"Nightmare?" Arthur asked sleepily, and Merlin nodded. "What was is about?"

"Nothing. I mean, I can't remember." Arthur didn't miss the note of panic in Merlin's voice and decided not to push it. Instead, he stood up and walked over so that he was right beside Merlin.

"You're breathing sounds better." Commented Arthur, and Merlin smiled a bit.

"I guess Gaius's awful concoction actually did something for once."

"I heard that!" Both of the young mens' heads whipped around and saw that Gaius had woken, and he was approaching the bed. "Here, let me take a look." He leaned into his ward and listened to his chest, smiling when he pulled away.

"You sound better, but still congested. With luck, the first treatments will be enough to rid your lungs of most of the fluid inside. I will warn you, it's going to be… repulsive." Merlin swallowed in fear and embarrassment, looking at Arthur's face apprehensively. Arthur understood at once and stood up, hoping to give Merlin some privacy for what was sure to be an unpleasant few days.

"I'll leave you to it then. Take care, Merlin." And then he was gone, leaving Merlin's leg feeling cold without the hand.

"Breathe Merlin, just breathe." Soothed Gaius, rubbing Merlin's back while the young ward coughed forcefully into a bucket. As promised, the remedy given to Merlin was working to expel the fluid from his lungs, but the process was more than unpleasant. After resting a bit more, the warlock had shot up and begun to cough, each cough more productive than the one before it. His face was contorted in strain and discomfort as he reached for the bucket that had been placed beside his bed. That had been several hours earlier, and Merlin was still holding the same bucket, only pausing in his violent expulsions long enough for Gaius to empty the bucket, and then it would start all over again.

"Gaius…" Merlin muttered weakly, then resuming the coughing. Gaius laid a hand on Merlin's forehead, frowning in dismay when he felt that the fever had risen.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"I thought… you said… you said I was doing… better." He said, voice broken and hitching.

"You are. You're coughing it up, which means that this will be over soon. You just have to ride it out." Merlin whined, then gagged.

"I'm…"

"Yes, I know. Let it out." That was all it took before Merlin was sick, emptying his stomach and his lungs out into the bucket. Gaius made a sympathetic noise, feeling the young boy's muscles constrict under his clothes. Finally, several minutes later, the attack stopped, and Merlin leaned back into his pillows, exhausted.

"Any better?" Asked Gaius, and Merlin nodded weakly. The physician gently took the bucket from the warlock's hands and emptying it into the nearby basin, feeling a spark of fear when he saw the reddish-brown color of the fluid. Damn.

"What is it Gaius?" Merlin's feeble voice stretched across the room, and Gaius turned slowly.

"Nothing, my boy. Get some sleep." Merlin didn't have to be told twice, and within seconds was unconscious. Gaius, on the other hand, sat in a chair next to Merlin's bed, vowing to keep a watch on the grievously ill young man. The blood he had seen in the bucket had only further confirmed his suspicions that serious damage had been done to the servant's lungs, but only time would tell just how serious. Oh, Merlin, why didn't you just tell us you were ill. We could have helped you. For now Gaius was certain that Merlin had been feeling sick for much longer than a few days. A sickness like this takes weeks to manifest, and Merlin would have been feeling under the weather for at least half of that time. Once the infection began to set in more seriously, the onslaught of symptoms would come quickly and without mercy. Gaius had seen this type of sickness once before, in a young boy during The Great Purge. He had been complaining of an intermittent cough and fatigue for a month, and then almost overnight his lungs filled with fluid and he developed a fever. Gaius was able to treat the child, but the illness caused irreparable damage to his lungs and he was no longer the same. The physician hoped with all his heart that the same would not happen to Merlin, despite all to the contrary.

It was several days later when Merlin's fever broke. Those days were spent with painful coughing and numerous returns to the faithful bucket. The fever cut into Merlin's mind with no relief until the young warlock was staring without seeing, and muttering words that made no sense, not even to Gaius, who understood the language of the old religion. There were frequent visits from Arthur and the Knights of Camelot, but none of them could get through to him. With every hour that passed, Gaius became more and more afraid that this sickness would not be like the last, and Merlin would not pull through. This is why when the fever finally broke and Merlin was able to sit up on his own, Gaius felt relief beyond anything he had ever felt before.

"Gaius?" The physician started, but once he saw who the voice belonged to, he relaxed.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"What happened to me? I remember feeling bad, then worse, then-" Merlin's sentence was abruptly cut off by more of the harsh coughing, less productive than before but painful all the same.

"You were very sick. Frankly, you are lucky to be alive. You had a dangerous infection of the lungs that was causing serious damage, but I was able to give you a remedy that helped. For a while, I was sure that I had failed. I'm glad I was wrong." Merlin's eyes widened, but he betrayed no emotion besides.

"How long have I been out?"

"About a week." Again, Merlin's eyes widened.

"How's Arthur?" At this, Gaius smiled. Leave it to Merlin to worry only of the king, and not of himself.

"He's alright, but worried. We all are. Now, Merlin, I need to tell you some things that may distress you. I know you have just woken but I must insist." Merlin coughed, then nodded.

"I've only seen an illness like this once before. Many years ago, in one of the lower towns. The boy I treated recovered, but he never truly was the same. His lungs remained weak throughout the rest of his life, and I fear the same fate awaits you."

"What does that mean, Gaius?" Merlin's eyes betrayed fear now, and Gauis was silent for a beat.

"That means that you need to be careful. It may take weeks for this cough to leave you, if it ever does, and weeks more before you will be able to do all that you used to. I will prepare a potion for you to take daily, it should help ease your breathing and restore your normal lung function. But, I should warn you; you will still be very weak, and the cough will probably return every once and awhile." Merlin took all this information in stride, but there was still one question on his mind.

"And what of my magic?" This question, Gaius could answer without fear.

"It should make a full recovery. But you shouldn't strain your use of it for a while. It could still weaken you greatly if you start too soon." The young warlock smiled genuinely, relieved that he would still have the use of his most precious gift.

"That's great! Now I must go see Arthur!." Merlin tried to stand, against the sudden protests of Gaius, but black spots danced across his vision once he made it to his feet. He plopped back down onto the bed, praying that he wouldn't pass out, and fell into a coughing fit. Gaius sighed and rubbed Merlin's back, hoping that the fit would pass soon. Eventually, it did, leaving Merlin's chest heaving.

"How long will that be happening?" Asked Merlin.

"I honestly don't know. I'm sorry that I cannot give you more answers. I just hope that, in time, you will heal enough to be back to your old self."

Athur heard a knock at his door, and he hastily sat up in bed.

"Come in." His voice was gravelly from sleep, and his head was pounding. His eyes swivelled to the door, and he saw a servant from another part of the castle step inside.

"My lord, I have been sent to you by the physician. It's Merlin." Arthur was at his feet in a flash, heart pounding.

"What about him?" He asked sharply. The servant smiled slightly, almost like a smirk, then spoke.

"He's awake, my lord."

Arthur pounded on Gaius's door, completely aware that the inhabitants may be asleep, but too ready to see Merlin to care. The last few times the king visited Merlin, the servant had been writhing under the blankets, face shining with sweat and unable to breathe for coughing. Arthur had only glimpsed fluid being brought up by his friends lungs, but he saw it long enough to see the blood shining within it. The sight had scared him more than he would ever be able to admit and he fled, but not before telling Gaius to send word if there was any change. That was the previous morning, and now Merlin was awake. It was almost too much to hope for.

Suddenly, Arthur heard the doorknob turning and he stepped back. The door swung open to reveal a very harassed looking Gaius.

"Ah, King Arthur. I see you got my message."

"Yes. How's Merlin?" Gaius smiled knowingly, and Arthur felt a stab of annoyance, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"Why don't you come in and see for yourself. He's still awake." The king didn't wait to be told twice and he pushed past Gaius, eager to see how the young warlock was doing. Gaius sighed and shut the door, exhausted from the previous nights' happenings, and turned to see Arthur standing at Merlin's door.

"Well, what are you waiting for, Sire? Surely you want to go in?"

"Gaius, how long has he been sick? And don't lie to me." Arthur said all this with his back still turned to the physician, but Gaius could hear the guilt in the king's voice.

"He says that he's been feeling off for about two weeks, Sire." Silence greeted the physician's soft words. "You mustn't blame yourself for what has happened. I know Merlin better than anyone, and he would never tell you something that he feels is trivial." Again, there was no response, but finally, Arthur knocked softly on Merlin's door. A weak "Come in." was heard, and Arthur stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he entered the room, Arthur noticed how fragile the young warlock had become in his time of sickness. The normally light-complexioned man was now as pale as the sheets he lay on, and his breathing was still noticeably labored.

"Hello Arthur," Merlin rasped out, voice still hoarse. "Fancy meeting you here." Then Merlin coughed deeply, turning his head in the opposite direction. Arthur frowned in sympathy as he heard Merlin wince with each cough.

"I thought Gaius said you were doing better." Arthur said with a small smile.'

"I am. It's just going to take a while for the cough to go away, that's all." Merlin decided that it would be best if his friend didn't know the full effects that the illness would give, so he just gave this simple answer. Arthur raised his eyebrows but didn't push it, and he pulled up a stool to sit next to Merlin.

"So, are you going to tell me why?" Merlin coughed once more, then frowned.

"Why what?"

"Why you decided not to tell me you were ill." Although the king didn't think that it was possible, Merlin's face blanched even further.

"I didn't think it was important."

"Not important! You could have died." Too late Arthur realized that his emotions were spilling into his voice, and he could see Merlin smirk.

"If I didn't know you any better Sire, I'd think that you were worried about me." Arthur twisted his face into one of annoyance instead of vulnerability and responded.

"I wasn't worried, I just didn't want the task of finding a new servant when I have so many other things to be doing." Merlin huffed out a laugh and winced as pain shot through his chest.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked quickly, then chided himself for the emotion that had once more crept into his voice.

"I'm fine Arthur. Just sore from the coughing." Merlin didn't quite meet the king's eyes as he said this, but again, Arthur didn't push it.

"Alright, but I don't want you pushing yourself too hard." Merlin smiled. "Don't look too happy about it. I expect you to be back mucking out my stables as soon as Gaius gives the word. I'll be stuck with George until you get back, so don't be too long." Arthur searched Merlin's eyes once more, hoping to see a bit of the man he was before the illness, and after a few moments, he found it: that glint in the young warlock's eyes when he was about to laugh, or cry. Satisfied, Arthur made to leave the room.

"I'll see you soon, Arthur." The king smiled but did not turn around, and stepped out of the room to head to his chambers. He may have been holding back some of his emotions but he wasn't lying about one thing - he had a lot to do.