Merlin was walking down the long corridor carrying a tray of food for Arthur. The prince had been sick for nearly four days already and he was barely eating, but Gaius insisted on Merlin bringing him soup every day.
Sodium, he had said. And something warm will help bring down the fever and keep him strong.
Merlin supposed that made sense and really, bringing Arthur soup wasn't much of a bother, it just seemed slightly pointless when almost the whole bowl went to waste.
"You Highness," he said opening the bedroom door. "Soup de joure."
He was at the foot of the bed when he noticed the mess, and that wasn't until he slipped on it, falling forward and causing the contents of the bowl to spill everywhere, mixing with the water that had already been there—how, Merlin had no idea.
"What happened?" he asked standing and pulling the wet shirt form his chest. "Why is there water everywhere?"
"I don't know." Arthur said. Not a total lie, but that can't be said for what he said next. "When I woke up, the blankets were wet—and no, that wasn't me." He added when Merlin looked at him, clearly about to say something.
"Oh no, of course not." He said quickly moving to clean up the mess and continued muttering in a tone that suggested that he was talking to himself, though he clearly was not. "Why—why would I think that? I mean, you wake up and the sheets are wet…you're sick and can barely stand…why would I think you wet yourself?"
"Merlin."
"What?"
"Shut up."
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I know, my chapters are really short but I plan on making them longer—don't worry ;)
R&R!