DISCLAIMER:
Oh well you look at that...I still don't own Merlin...
Warnings:
There will be whump, and it may get quite descriptive.
Contains: Evil! Morgana, Evil! Mordred, Sick/Hurt! Merlin Worried! Arthur & Knights.
Features Arthur/Merlin bromance, but contains NO slash. Between ANYONE
Dréor Hagorún – The Blood Spell
CHAPTER TWO
Clutching Merlin tightly against his chest, Arthur hastened towards the Physician's chambers. Upon their departure from the armoury, the King had instructed Gwaine to assemble the remaining knights and meet them back at Gaius's quarters.
With the boy trembling against him, the corridors seemed endless – stares and gasps of horror accompanying him as servants gazed upon the sickly boy, but Arthur ignored all questions. Merlin was beginning to stir, and he knew that the position he was being held in would be painful.
Arthur nearly cried out in relief as he approached the stairwell that led to the chambers, and Merlin did. He had just regained consciousness and all the pain of being moved and jostled uncomfortably by the King's gait almost overwhelmed him. The boy turned his head , leaned from Arthur's arms, and heaved. Blood –streaked vomit splattered at his feet, and he sighed.
'Couldn't soil the King's finery, now could I?' Merlin mumbled in response to Arthur's questioning gaze. The King offered him a small smile, and tried to reposition the young man in his arms, before beginning the trek upstairs. Merlin whimpered as the muscles in his gut constricted further.
'Nearly there, Merlin...nearly there,' Arthur whispered in what he hoped was a soothing manner as he climber the uneven stone stairs. Each step felt like an eternity as he began to weep from the pain. Arthur was sure some of his own tears joined Merlin's as they dripped from his chin.
'Gaius?' Arthur called, when they were close to the top of the stairwell. The chamber's wooden doors crashed open, and the old Physician appeared with a speed that belied his age.
'Oh my dear boy,' he whispered, his eyes settling upon the young man who was his ward and like a son to him. The man stepped aside as Arthur entered with the now squirming boy, and watched with curiosity as the ruler of Camelot set the boy gently upon the bed, his trembling hands brushing Merlin's forehead with such tenderness that it near broke his heart.
'What symptoms has he been displaying, sire?' Gaius enquired, dabbing the boy's cheeks with a damp cloth. Arthur took a deep shuddering breath, his eyes never leaving Merlin, who was still conscious and shivering uncontrollably.
'We found him curled up in a tight ball, clutching his gut and wailing. And he threw up on Gwaine when he tried to move his head.' Arthur relayed.
'Yes, debilitating abdominal cramps and vomiting are the first symptoms to appear. I also see his pupils consume the majority of the iris,' Gaius explained, his facade of calm slipping. He did not want to lose this boy.
Arthur nodded, taking his eyes off Merlin, only for a moment as the Knights of the Round Table burst through the door, all donning their battle armour.
'How is he?' Percival asked quietly, sadness evident in his expression.
Arthur shook his head. 'This is only going to get worse. I trust that Gwaine has apprised you of the situation?'
Sir Leon nodded. 'Yes sire, we have instructed a number of servants to gather supplies and ready the horses. They should be ready within the hour,'
Arthur then turned back to Gaius, who was busy checking Merlin's pulse and reflexes.
'Gaius, are there any pain medicines you can supply that will at least ease his discomfort?' Gwaine asked, reading Arthur's intentions as he crouched by the boy and gripped his twitching hand.
The old physician shook his head sadly. 'Regrettably not, and I warn you now, he will soon be difficult to look after. Morgana has given you two days...I fear his condition will slow your progress somewhat,'
Arthur nodded in understanding. 'We know Gaius, but we will get him there in time. We will save him,'
Gaius gave Arthur and his Knights a watery smile. Never had he known such noble men, ready to fight and die for a servant. It was then that Gaius almost lost hold of his emotions. He nearly fell apart right there, but a reassuring grip upon his shoulder told him that there was always hope.
He took a deep breath and once more looked upon his ward.
Oh how he would miss him, if the poor boy was to die.
As Arthur rushed around his chambers, collecting clothes and hastily shoving them into his leather pack, his uncle, Lord Agravaine stood by his door, hands clasped behind his back. He did not wait for the King to speak.
'My Lord, are you sure this is wise? Running off to that accursed valley for a mere serving boy?'
The King shot his uncle a glare, but did not respond verbally.
'What I mean, sire, is that it is far too dangerous! You could get yourself killed!'
Arthur gripped the pack tightly, his knuckles turning white.
'You know I am always grateful for your counsel, uncle, but this is not open for discussion. I will not let Merlin die. He is far too important to me,' Arthur explained, his blue eye fixing his uncle's with a pleading gaze.
Agravaine sighed. 'Majesty, he is but a servant!' he replied incredulously, his eyes wide.
'To you, he may be Agravaine, but he has saved my life on several occasions, willing to endure much pain so that I may survive. To me and to my Knights, he is a loyal friend and I will not allow him to die. I have to leave, now,' Arthur said heading for the doors of his chambers. His uncle moved to stop him.
'Should you not at least wait for morning?' Agravaine pleaded, his eyes remaining emotionless. 'It will be dark soon, My Lord.'
The King shook his head. 'I have wasted too much time already. We have ridden in the dark before – this cannot wait.'
As Agravaine watched his nephew depart his chambers swiftly, a cold smile spread slowly across his sallow face.
Morgana had been right! Everything was going according to plan.
Already upon his steed, Arthur waited nervously for Gwaine to appear with the sick boy, ready to depart. After much argument on Arthur's part, the knights managed to convince him that Merlin should ride with a knight. They pointed out, that he while he was leading; navigating the route in the dark would require all of his concentration and attention, which he would not be able to give had he been nursing the boy too.
It was after he finally relented to their words, that Gwaine was the first to volunteer for this task. Arthur found himself somewhat relieved that the knight had offered to care for Merlin. Of all his men, Gwaine seemed to have made a connection with the boy, and treated him as a younger brother.
He sighed ain relief as Gwaine approached, clutching the twitching boy in his arms, his face grave. He gave him a slow nod and handed the frail, too light figure to the King, so he could mount his steed. Once Gwaine was seated comfortably in the saddle, he leant over to help Arthur place Merlin before him. He was semi-conscious – his eyes flicking restlessly towards the king.
'Wh-where we going?' He slurred, gripping the horses mane.
The young king placed a gloved hand upon Merlin's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly.
'We're going to get you some help. You're quite ill,'
The warlock's lips quirked into a small smile. 'Over worked and underpaid my liege,' he whispered.
Arthur scoffed. 'But not ill enough, it seems, to make jokes,' he replied ruffling his dark mop.
Merlin winced as the gesture made his headache worse.
Arthur looked up towards Gwaine. 'Make sure you keep an eye on him Gwaine, I want you behind me at all times and keep me updated. I want to know when his condition begins to worsen,'
The knight replied with a stiff nod, not in the mood for his usual surly and sarcastic retorts.
Arthur mounted his horse and clicked his tongue, urging the beast towards the citadel gates. The knights followed suit, matching the King's gait.
Below him, Merlin cried out, the jolting speed aggravating his ailment, and with one hand still clutching the reins, he gripped the boy under the armpit and pulled him to his chest.
'I'm sorry dear boy, we will be there soon,' he murmured to his young friend, as the party headed towards the Valley of the Fallen Kings, the sunset chasing close behind...
They had been riding for hours, before finally exhaustion forced the group to stop for a reprieve. Arthur dismounted and hastened towards Gwaine's horse, where he and Percival were pulling Merlin gently from the saddle.
Merlin gasped, his eyes flew open. 'Put me down!' he screamed, pain lancing through his body as the Knights quickened their pace.
Arthur sat with his back against a tree, motioning for the Knights lay Merlin with him.
Percival slowly lowered the boy so that his head rested upon the Kings lap.
'Hello Merlin,' he murmured softly as the boy peered at him with wide, pain filled eyes.
' 'Lo,' he murmured in reply, the sound barely audible through his dry lips.
'How are you feeling?' He asked, trying to keep the boy conscious.
'Prob'ly slightly worse than hung-over,' Merlin replied humourlessly
Arthur chuckled, but the smile quickly sobered as the boys blue orbs slid out of focus. For a panicked moment, he thought the boy was dead, and he could have been for the stillness of his body.
'Merlin?' he asked his voice hitching as he shook his friend.
The boy remained unresponsive, his eyes glassy – but the uneven rise and fall of his chest assured the King he was still alive.
'Gwaine? Percival? There's something wrong!' He called, his fear rising.
The two Knights dropped what they were doing and rushed over.
'What is it?' Percival asked, crouching beside the pair.
Before Arthur could answer, Merlin's eyes rolled back, only showing white, and he began to thrash wildly. His jaw clenched and his head jerked back, his neck muscles as taut as a drawn bow.
'Merlin!' Arthur cried reaching out to hold him.
'No Arthur, don't touch him,' Gwaine murmured quietly, watching as his back arched, his torso rising. His head was jerking painfully into the Kings thigh, but he did not care. The thrashing increased violently and there was a gurgling deep in his throat.
Arthur's eyes met Gwaine's imploringly. 'What's happening, Gwaine?'
'Gaius warned me he may have seizures, but I never imagined them to reach this severity,' Gwaine replied as Merlin began to gag. Arthur's eyes widened as a white froth, with smeared with red, splattered from his lips and slid from his chin.
Tears pricked at Arthur's eyes. 'He sounds like he's choking,' Arthur croaked.
'He is sire.' Gwaine said, reaching forward. 'You have to move him now, I know I told you not to touch him, but we need to ensure his airway's a clear. I will show you,'
The tall knight gripped the still rigid boy by the shoulders and pulling slowly from Arthur's legs. Laying in the dirt, Merlin lay taut, his body curved backwards into a 'C'.
'Hold his head please, sire, ' Gwaine instructed. 'I need to ensure he does not bite or choke on his tongue.'
Arthur clutched the boys head between two hands as the Knight gripped the boy's tight jaw. With some difficulty, he pried his foaming mouth open and was subsequently splattered with blood and froth.
'Either he has already bit his tongue...'
He needn't say more, for Arthur understood what he was saying.
With practiced ease, Gwaine placed two fingers into the boy's mouth, searching for any blockages. Vomit rested at the back for Merlin's throat, so the knight rubbed his neck, urging the sick to come forth and relieve his friends torment.
Merlin's eyes flickered and he blinked, his body going limp. Utterly exhausted, he barely retched, before he was vomited once more.
Once he stopped, his eyes widened upon feeling wetness in his trousers and he looked away, embarrassed.
Arthur peered at Percival, his mouth a grim line. 'During a seizure,' the knight whispered so that he wasn't heard. 'The patient can oftentimes lose control of their bodily functions. I believe this is what happened to Merlin,'
Arthur nodded. He understood why the boy shied away.
'Merlin?' Arthur said softly, encouraging the boy to look at him. Merlin's body wracked with silent sobs. Without hesitating, Arthur pulled the boy into a rough embrace, his chin resting on his shoulder as he cried.
The boy gripped the back of his tunic, tears dampening the soft material, but Arthur did not care. He no longer held back his tears. He was tired, afraid, and his friend required comfort. The Knights watched on feeling their own emotions rising. To them, Merlin wasn't just a mere servant of the King. He was a friend – like a brother, and they knew Arthur felt the same.
So they watched, as the King, comforting his friend; cried with him.
I hope this was satisfying! Thanks again to the reviewers! There will be more action soon, I promise – but I need protective Gwaine and Arthur first!