Eventually the tonic wore off enough that Merlin began to feel the pain again. He woke with a groan, but the light sheen of sweat on his skin showed clearly that the fever had broken. Only the lingering pain and discomfort of the wound remained. At first Merlin was puzzled as to why his pillow was so warm. And firm. Blinking sleepily, he shifted so that he was face to face - so to speak - with the pillow. To his surprise, it was not a pillow at all but Arthur's lap. Blushing, Merlin attempted to scramble away only to stop short when the movement pulled the wound in precisely the wrong way and drew a yelp of pain from the unfortunate sorcerer.
Arthur had drifted off to sleep whilst keeping an eye on Merlin. As he dreamed, he saw himself rescuing Merlin before the sword thrust, and in the glimmer of his mind half awake, the prince wished events had played out so. "Hm? Merlin..." Arthur woke at the pained cry, and once he realized the comforting weight of Merlin's head was no longer there, found the wounded servant wearing a grimace of pain. "You clumsy ox," he chided, more concerned than angry. "Moving about like that's only going to make things worse."
Merlin tried to resist the urge to pout and mostly failed. His lower lip jutted out slightly, and he tried not to meet Arthur's gaze. "Didn't realize I fell asleep." He shifted more carefully until he lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. The urge to summon magic to help with the healing was almost overwhelming, but he certainly couldn't do that in front of Arthur. Cracking one eyelid, he ventured, "Can you call Gaius?" It was strange asking Arthur for things, at least something so menial. Running errands and messages - those were tasks he should be performing, not asking of the prince.
"Of course." Arthur was fully awake and on his feet in an instant. If Merlin needed Gaius then he would fetch the aged physician at once. "I'll be right back. Summon one of the guards if you need anything." He was halfway toward the door when he noticed the tray of food and drink resting near the bed. Picking it up, he laid it close to Merlin. "Gwen must have brought it," he surmised, "while we were sleeping." Arthur smiled softly, adding, "I'm sure she must be worried about you, too."
"Yeah, s'pose," Merlin answered, blushing. Arthur never failed to miss an opportunity to tease him about Gwen. There were times when he'd been sure that the ruler was jealous of the thought that he was somehow involved with the handmaiden. Merlin liked Gwen - liked her very much, in fact - but only as a friend. Even Morgana for all her striking beauty had very little effect on him. Nimue had been different, but once he found out who she really was, Merlin couldn't help but feel that the attraction had more to do with his magic responding to hers and less to do with the lovely but psychotic sorceress as a person. The ultimate truth was that only Arthur made him blush and stammer and forget himself entirely.
Gaius interrupted the stream of internal babbling with a smile and a tearing away of the warm covers Merlin had cocooned himself in. He ignored the young man's murmurs of protest and began gently cutting away the bandages around his wound. "Why, it's looking better already."
"Still hurts," Merlin protested almost accusingly. He had never been a morning person, and being poked and prodded immediately after waking up only made that natural aversion worse.
"Steady on, Merlin." Arthur sympathized with Merlin's predicament, feeling another twinge of guilt for being the cause of it. "Isn't there anything you can give him for the pain?" he asked Gaius.
"There is only this," the physician replied, mixing another brew of the potion he'd given Merlin earlier. "I am loathe to give him too much, sire. It tends to have a prolonged effect on those susceptible to its influence."
Arthur nodded. The effect on Merlin had been potent indeed. He could not forget the way Merlin gazed at him, telling him how pretty he was... "Does this potion," the prince started, "does it make one tell the truth?"
"It is no veritaserum," Gaius answered somewhat hesitantly. "The effects are more... something akin to being inebriated, Sire. It loosens one's tongue." The physician couldn't help but wonder what Merlin might have said before, and he could see that the young man was similarly concerned as he obediently drank the potion down. Apparently the pain was great enough to overcome his worry – which said in and of itself how much it must have hurt.
Merlin found himself wondering if he shouldn't urge Arthur away. What had he said? Confessed to? What if he said something far worse? He carried secrets which could not only be inconvenient - they could get him killed.
"Not too much, then," Arthur advised, standing with one hand on his hip as he watched Gaius care for Merlin. /I was right; he was only drunk.../ The prince didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. There had been a ring of truth to Merlin's declarations all the same, words that he made Arthur falter and his pulse quicken with the notion his servant-cum-friend might actually be attracted to him.
Only once Gaius left the room again did Merlin venture uneasily, "What'd I say?"
before taking a bite of cheese and bread. He hoped he hadn't made too much of an idiot out of himself. /Not more than usual./ Arthur was difficult to be around at times, difficult to read. The prince had learned to play the proper political game of never letting anyone see him flinch - and he rarely did. Merlin wondered if he should deny it all outright or hear the content first and then deny more categorically. /Just hope for random babbling. If none of it made sense, he can't very well be offended by it./
Arthur smiled, adopting an air of nonchalance as he rejoined Merlin on the bed. With a gentle touch, he batted the other young man's hand away from the tray of food. "You said I was pretty," he replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "I certainly can't argue with that." Arthur reached for an apple, took a bite, and then offered it up to Merlin's mouth. His eyes twinkled with mirth, and the prince urged, "Go on, have a bite. Can't have you fainting from hunger now, can we?"
How could Arthur be so casual about that? Merlin's heart was thumping away pitifully in his chest, and he thought for a moment that he might pass out. And then an apple was suddenly looming in his vision. The one that Arthur had just taken a bite of. Certainly his being given food that the prince hadn't finished was nothing unusual. He was a servant. But sharing the piece of fruit was... intimate. Merlin couldn't quite quantify the difference, but he knew it was there. The young man's bright gaze flitted to Arthur's face but saw only the coolest sort of contemplation there. "Just the potion," he managed to murmur before taking a bite of the fruit, teeth piercing the bitter skin and penetrating to the sweet flesh below. Merlin drew back and looked at Arthur, just the sight of the prince making him blush in light of his unintended confession.
"You don't think I'm pretty?" Arthur took mock offense. "But you sounded so certain." Merlin, most definitely rattled, had meant it, potion or not. Of that much, Arthur Pendragon was sure, but what the prince could not puzzle out was why it meant so much to him to know that Merlin thought that way about him. The day before Merlin had almost been lost, and nearly losing his friend had made Arthur realize how much he cared for him. Attempting to maintain his playful facade, the prince's smile brightened as he noted apple residue clinging to Merlin's mouth. "I dare say this feels rather odd," he dabbed at Merlin's lips with a cloth, "taking care of you when you've always been the one looking after me."
Merlin blushed furiously as the cloth brushed against his lips. Arthur paying attention to his lips was troubling in the most distracting sort of way because Arthur looking at his lips, touching them, was somehow very close to other things that someone could do with lips. Merlin caught himself staring openly at Arthur's pink, smiling mouth, the slight imperfection of the teeth peeking out that he found utterly endearing. The potion was definitely kicking in. "Doesn't hurt so much," he mumbled uncertainly. "And... you're good at it. Taking care of people. You do it all the time, just not like this." Merlin knew he was on the verge of babbling and shut his mouth so hard that his teeth clicked together.
"I didn't do a very good job of taking care of you in the field," Arthur pointed out, his mood darkening. "It was foolish to hunt down those bandits with so few soldiers by my side." His thumb accidentally brushed Merlin's lower lip, and Arthur felt something akin to a charge of lightning streak through his hand and up his arm. He caught his breath, flustered and wondering if Merlin might have felt the same intense spark at the contact. The cloth fell, and Arthur's gaze flitted between it and Merlin's eyes. "You scared me to death," he confessed, his voice wavering. "Thank you for saving my life, but don't ever do that again."
"I will. If I have to," Merlin answered without hesitation. Arthur's life was too important. The people of the realm all needed him, would all be leaning on him and his abilities in the future, but that was an equivocation. Merlin knew that even with the potion flowing through his veins. The touch a moment before had confirmed it if nothing else had. That shock of... something. /Two sides of the same coin.../ How many times had he heard that, had people described them as being part of one another? "I'll always save you."
"Why is that?" Arthur's clear blue gaze fixed on Merlin, his hand darting out to rest atop the servant's. In that moment, the prince wanted - no, he needed - more than anything to know. "Why do you do these things for me? Risk your own life?" When no answer was forthcoming, Arthur surprised himself by cupping Merlin's face in his hands as he murmured softly, "Your prince wishes to be told."
Merlin made a soft sound of pleasure at the touch, his eyes falling closed. He could barely focus on what Arthur was saying, what he was demanding. Arthur was touching him. The fact of that came as such a shock that Merlin didn't even realize as he opened his eyes that they were glowing softly, a warm gold cast over their usual vibrant blue. "I would never let anything hurt you if I could stop it."
Darkness swarmed in on Arthur, and he barely heard the words tumbling from Merlin's lips. Something pungent wafted beneath his nose, and the prince let out a groan as his eyes rolled back in his head. Arthur fell forward onto the bed, dead to the world. Behind him Gaius straightened, wearing an expression of utter panic. In his trembling hand was an open vial, and the physician spluttered out at Merlin, "Have you taken leave of your senses?"
"What? What happened?" he murmured, aware that something had taken place but not in the least clear on what precisely it had been. And then he remembered the surge of something powerful as Arthur looked at him. "Gaius, what did I do?" The effect of the potion seemed somewhat overcome by Merlin's sudden panic, and he sat up to reach for Arthur. A hiss of pain escaped the young man, but he didn't stop moving despite it. "Arthur? Can you hear me? Arthur?"
"Calm yourself, Merlin," Gaius said, moving to his side. "It was a harmless draught. Do you think I would harm the prince?" Replacing the cork on the vial, Gaius put it away and then took great care in moving Arthur's royal person until it seemed he had fallen asleep in a more natural position. "You are most fortunate I remembered the salve I prepared before I was halfway down the stairs," the physician told Merlin. "Otherwise, you might have found yourself in a heap of trouble."
"You drugged him?" Merlin asked incredulously. His head was still swimming, but he was trying to follow the thread of the situation. "Why?" For a moment he'd been absolutely terrified that he'd done something to hurt Arthur himself, let his magic get out of control under the effects of the potion. "Gaius, he was just... helping." That was strange in and of itself, Merlin had to admit, but there was no harm in it. /Oh really? No harm in telling Arthur he's pretty?/ "Could've just given me something so I could sleep," he groused instead before looking back to Arthur who was looking particularly, well, pretty as he lay dozing on the bed. Right, Merlin realized, next to him. "M-maybe I should go down to my own room."
"That is a very, very good idea." Gaius could not count on his fortuitous intervention from saving Merlin a second time. He loathed to even toy with the notion of what might have happened if Arthur discovered that Merlin was, in fact, a sorcerer. "Here, let me help you," he offered, shifting to Merlin's side and offering him his shoulder to lean on. "I think you'll be able to heal better in your bed without... distractions."
Merlin couldn't help but look back at the bed and at Arthur stretched out in it. He tore his gaze away and bit his lip as Gaius led him down to the quarters that they shared. "You're sure he'll be okay?" The walking was proving more than a little painful, but Merlin's mind was rather firmly on the prince currently sleeping off some drugs in his room. He almost didn't notice as the world began to spin. The sorcerer stumbled and nearly fell, but he was brought up short as his shins hit his own bed. Merlin moaned and lay down as carefully as he could.
"Granted, the prince won't remember much but I give you my word, Arthur will be right as rain," promised Gaius, helping Merlin into bed. "Now do stop fussing so, Merlin." He sighed then took a seat as he peeled back the bandages to examine the wound. "You must take care, otherwise you'll only succeed in making this much worse." Gaius applied more ointment before replacing the bandages with fresh ones. "We must have a talk, you and I," he said as he worked, "about Arthur."
Merlin bit his lip. He didn't like the sound of that. The ointment had done a great deal to help with the pain, but Merlin doubted that it would help him in the least if Gaius wanted to talk. The physician's tone said clearly that whatever was about to come out of his mouth, it wasn't good. "What did you want to talk about, exactly?" He served Arthur, protected him. That was his job. All talk of destiny aside, Merlin was utterly loyal to the prince. Certainly that was only appropriate.
"You care for him, don't you?" Gaius was blunt and to the point. He smiled in a warm, avuncular manner, knowing he must have shocked Merlin. "Do you think I was never in love? My eyes may be old, but I am not blind to your feelings." Gaius finished his work, pleased to have wrapped Merlin's shoulder without spilling the ointment. "You must take care, Merlin. Need I remind you of Arthur's station? Of how dangerous it would be if you two were... involved?"
Merlin considered that and slowly nodded. It was true. "It isn't as if... Gaius, he has the pick of any lady in the court. Someday he'll marry one of them, and someday he'll be king." Talking about the thought that had swerved through his mind over and over again was surprisingly painful. Merlin was hard pressed not to sound sullen at the admission. "I'm just his idiot servant." As far as he could tell, that was all Arthur thought of him most of the time. Certainly the prince had been very kind after Merlin was injured, but he suspected that had more to do with a feeling of obligation than anything else.
Gaius sympathized with Merlin's plight, resting a hand on the boy's dark head. "I'm afraid that's the way it must be," he said, "for now at least." Straightening with a bit of a grunt, Gaius reached for a goblet and prepared another pain-killer. This time, however, he lessened the ingredients so that Merlin would not be quite so susceptible to its intoxicating effect. "Now I want you to drink this," he instructed, "and try and get some rest."
"Right," Merlin mumbled, feeling more miserable with each passing moment. Still, the potion helped to take the edge off of his fears, and soon Merlin slipped off to sleep. He drifted into dreams that were peaceful at first. As time went by, the setting of the dreams became darker. Merlin could hear the dragon's laughter, heard Uther's voice raised in anger, the king shouting his displeasure though Merlin could not hear at what. Frightened, he screamed for Arthur, but the prince was nowhere to be found. In the waking world, sweat beaded on the young man's brow as he ran through endless corridors of dreams trying to find Arthur.
When Arthur awoke, his royal head felt as if it weighed a ton. He cracked open one eye, then groaned as he tried to rise from the pillow. His head spun, and Arthur's first thought was that he had indulged himself in too much wine. But the crown prince didn't recall doing anything of the sort. In fact, he didn't remember very much at all. Of the little he could piece together, there was one thing Arthur was sure of: Merlin, his idiot servant, was late again. "Merlin..."
Sighing, Arthur pulled himself up from the bed only to discover he was fully clothed. When had that happened? He massaged his aching temples, stumbling to his feet and heading for the door. Making his way down to the servant quarters, Arthur found that it was well into mid-day and one or two of the knights congratulated him on defeating the bandits, but he hadn't led a party after said bandits yet... had he?
"Merlin?" Arthur burst into the other young man's room, and a cutting remark about Merlin's laziness tripped on the edge of his tongue as he took in the sight of the sleeping figure. Merlin's shoulder was bandaged, and in a flash, Arthur remembered the battle and the terrible sword thrust. "Merlin..." He was by his friend's side in the next instant, confusion playing across his handsome features as he tried to deduce how he could have ever forgotten such a thing had occurred.
Merlin's eyes flew open at the sound of his name on Arthur's lips. He broke from the dream like a man cresting the surface of a cold lake. Bright blue eyes flew open, and Merlin looked almost as confused as Arthur for a moment. "S-sire?" he ventured. Gaius had said the prince's memory would be addled, and if that was the case, he might not remember having given Merlin permission – for once - to call him by his given name. Better not to push his luck. The wound hurt a bit less. It wasn't comfortable, but at least he could shift slightly without the blinding pain of the previous day.
"Merlin, I-" Arthur broke off, feeling as if he had forgotten something important. The last thing he remembered clearly was helping Gaius treat and bandage Merlin's wound. Everything after that was lost in a haze. Bewilderment turning to concern, Arthur blinked at Merlin and wondered, "How are you feeling?" Guilt weighed heavily on his heart, although the prince was loathe to admit it. Merlin's self-sacrifice only endeared the clumsy servant to Arthur that much more. He felt rather terrible for intending to find Merlin and berate him for not being there to wake him. Where had his memories gone?
Merlin blushed slightly and shrugged. "Well as can be expected. Gaius is taking good care of me. It doesn't hurt so much now." And he had to admit, having Arthur close by helped. The dreams the night before had left him feeling vulnerable, frightened, and almost more tired than he'd been when he first drifted off. "I think soon I should be right as rain soon just like Gaius said." The thought that someone else was caring for Arthur, that someone else was bringing him breakfast and polishing his armor and spending the days with him - or at least would be until he was well - was another point of annoyance for the injured sorcerer. "What about you, sire? You seemed, um, tired..."
"Considering I slept all of last night and half of today, I shouldn't." Arthur held his head in his hands. His thoughts simply refused to clear and offer him insight on what had transpired. "I don't know what happened," he confessed, his expression lost as he glanced back up at Merlin. "Gaius bandaged your shoulder, and then..." Arthur paused, clutching at a faint glimmer in the back of his mind, "...we were talking about something, right?"
He didn't remember. Merlin felt an odd flutter in his chest, a tightness that was a sickening combination of relief and disappointment. Suddenly he wasn't nearly as glad of Arthur's presence as he'd been a moment before. "Nothing important, sire. You were only asking how I felt. I think you were still tired from the fight." Lies. All lies. Merlin was tired of telling lies, especially to Arthur, who he most wanted to be honest with. It was one thing lying to Gwen or Morgana - certainly he had no qualms in lying to Uther - but lying to Arthur when they were supposed to be so tightly entwined... To Arthur he was simply an incompetent servant, but to him, Arthur was far more than just a prince. "I'm certain that you needed the rest more than the talk."
"Perhaps..." Arthur mulled, only to frown a moment later. "Wait, are you having sport with me Merlin? One small fight with a group of bandits isn't nearly enough to bring me down. I'll have you know I was handling myself just fine until you intervened." His bratty demeanor returning, Arthur felt his stomach knot when he glanced at Merlin's bandaged shoulder and remembered the other young man's anguished cry of pain. /He could have died, and you're acting like a right royal prat - again!/ Murmuring something that sounded like a quick "Sorry" under his breath, the prince decided it best to change the subject. "Tomorrow morning I plan to have another sweep of the forest," he told Merlin. "We failed to find the robber baron stirring the bandits into action, and I refuse to allow the murdering thieves another day to pillage the kingdom."
"You can't!" Merlin spat, sitting up before he remembered why moving quickly was a bad idea. Looking paler and still displeased, the young man took a breath and murmured, "Sire, it just... it seems like a bad idea." There was no rational way to explain why having him at the man's side would make the slightest bit of difference, not without admitting a lot more than he wanted to divulge. His arm throbbed at the thought, and Merlin's brow knit. What could he possibly say that would make Arthur - impetuous, heroic, hot-headed Arthur - turn down a chance at a fight with an enemy he was mad at? "It's just that it seems like a shame to go out and make a mess of yourself with no one to take care of you once you're done." The excuse was weak and easy to brush aside, but Merlin could think of no other way to ask Arthur to wait, to put off the vendetta until he could go along again.
"Who says I'm going to make a mess of myself?" Arthur countered, taken aback by Merlin's vehement reaction to his plan of action. Resting a gentle hand on his servant's unwounded shoulder, the prince eased Merlin back against the pillows. He peered at his servant, noting the worry darkening his blue eyes. "Are you that troubled, Merlin?" he asked, exhaling deeply. "Yesterday's events should not have happened, but I am prepared to go out there and face whatever is necessary to keep my people safe." Arthur offered the worried servant a smile, adding teasingly, "If I do manage to scuff my armor, I'll be most grateful for your polishing skills once you're properly mended."
Merlin didn't look much comforted by the words. He liked to think that Arthur still needed him on some level, but he was more worried than he could say at the idea of the prince going out alone. /Arthur's the best fighter in the kingdom. He defended himself alone long before I got here. He... he'll be fine./ The young man found himself utterly unconvinced by his own assurances. "Be careful, sire. Those men... they don't want anyone getting in the way of what they're doing. They don't care who you are, and..." Trying to put a more humorous spin on things before Arthur grew suspicious, Merlin added, "If something happened to you, you know the king would take the first opportunity to ship me back to my mother."
"I would never allow that to happen," Arthur said in a tone that was sharper than he intended. "Merlin, you are mine-" he faltered, continuing, "my servant, and it's my decision to keep you on, not my father's."
The words weren't comforting, precisely, but the possessiveness with which Arthur spoke them made a curl of warmth bloom in the young man's stomach. He could feel the heat of it settling there, begging for attention. Merlin knew that it would be dangerous to feed the feeling and fought the urge. Gaius was right. Arthur would be king, and whether their destinies were entwined or not, dwelling on the idea of a romance that could never be would help no one.
He hoped those words set Merlin's mind at ease. Of course he'd caught the lightness in Merlin's voice but, after yesterday's events, the prince had no intention of allowing a soul to take his clumsy servant away. Merlin had saved his life, and Arthur carried a great deal of admiration for his servant's loyalty as well as guilt for being unable to keep the people around him from harm.
"Thank you, Sire," Merlin answered quietly. He wished he could talk Arthur out of going altogether, but that wasn't in the cards. The man had decided what his path would be, and Arthur wasn't a man who was easy to dissuade once he settled into an idea. "Be careful. Please?" The idea of Arthur injured or killed while he was too far away to help terrified the young sorcerer. What good was he if he couldn't protect his prince?
"I'll be fine, Merlin." Arthur's handsome face was lit with a smile of reassurance. "You shouldn't worry yourself so." He couldn't take the concern shimmering in Merlin's blue eyes as it only made the prince feel that much more guilty for failing his servant. Merlin should never have been put into the position to be harmed in the first place. "From now on, I think it might be best if you remain at the castle," he decided, thinking only of Merlin's safety. "One as clumsy as you might fall onto another sword without realizing it."
The words cut deeper than the prince was likely ever to realize, and Merlin flinched. He quickly covered the hurt with a scowl, however. "I only got hurt because I didn't want you to get stabbed, Sire," he reminded the other man pointedly. Merlin's gaze had traveled back down to the thin blanket covering him because he couldn't look into Arthur's bright gaze. The prince thought he was an idiot, an annoyance. It didn't matter what he had done or what he could do. In Arthur's eyes, he would always be simply a bumbling servant.
Although it pained him to do so, Arthur was determined to keep Merlin at arm's length. Merlin's loyalty should not be rewarded with putting him in needless danger. But instead of coming right out and explaining this to his servant, Arthur had only managed to stick his foot in his mouth again. "Merlin," an apology formed on his lips, though he couldn't quite bring himself to say it, "understand, please? I'm doing this for you. If you're hurt again because of me, I... I can't allow that to happen."
The words were kind enough to ease some of Merlin's hurt feelings, and he nodded. "I know, Sire," he answered earnestly. Though it didn't lessen his frustration, it did make Merlin feel better to know that Arthur really was trying to do what was best for him. "Thank you. I only... it's... I worry, that's all." That was the closest he could rightly come to communicating his feelings, and the safest to boot. "Just be careful, Arth - Sire. Please."
"Don't worry yourself so, Merlin," Arthur sighed even as a boyish grin lit up his handsome features. "I do believe you're forgetting who I am. One robber baron is hardly a match for me." It touched him to know that Merlin wasn't just his servant, he was a friend who cared for his well-being. /And that concern had nearly got him killed./ "Tell you what," Arthur decided after a moment, "tomorrow, when it's all over, I'll pay you a visit and show you I'm alright. Deal?"
At that suggestion, Merlin perked up visibly. "Yes... please, Sire," he agreed readily, a genuine smile finding his lips at last. It would put his mind at ease to know that Arthur was well and safe and whole. If he wasn't, of course, he'd likely hear that from Gaius quickly, but in the meantime, it was something to latch onto. Merlin's stomach fluttered at the thought of the danger that Arthur was putting himself in. /The knights will be with him. Now they know the numbers and capabilities of these men. Surely it will be safer now./
"Alright," Arthur nodded, "that's settled, then." Straightening, he rose from his chair and rested on the edge of Merlin's bed. With anyone else the familiarity between master and servant might be shocking. But he and Merlin had been through far too much together for that to matter. "Now, there's something you can do for your prince," he said, fixing the brunette with his clear blue eyes. "Rest. Will do that for me?"
Though it rankled Merlin terribly to think of simply sitting still and doing nothing while Arthur put his life in danger, the young man nodded. "Yes, sire." If that was the only thing that he could offer to Arthur he would. He could be patient, he supposed. If he had to. If Arthur was coming back the next day to prove that he was well and safe and whole despite the danger. Merlin sighed, wishing he could persuade Arthur to consider staying, but the prince's jaw was set, and Merlin knew that look of determination in his gaze.
Arthur was not blind to the fact that Merlin's expression remained sad, almost hurt that he was going off to fight without him. How could he convince Merlin that he was only doing what he believed was right? He couldn't risk taking Merlin along with him again, he simply couldn't. Awkward and foolish as his servant might be, Merlin's loyalty was unquestioning. And Arthur feared that loyalty would get his friend killed. "Merlin..." Rising to his feet, the prince paused before offering the other young man a soft smile of reassurance. "I will see you tomorrow. I promise."
As much as Merlin wanted to pout or insist that Arthur should wait, he could fairly feel the prince's desperation to make it all okay. Arthur was doing what he did best - playing the hero. The least that Merlin could do was support him. Knowing that Arthur needed it no matter how miserable he felt, Merlin forced a smile that looked almost natural and answered, "With Gaius seeing to me, I should be back on my feet before you even return, sire." /Hurry back,/ he added silently, eyes still locked on Arthur's face.
"You'd better be." Arthur added, with mock-seriousness, "After tomorrow, I'm sure my armor will need your polishing skills more than ever." As he departed, he felt torn between his royal duties and remaining by Merlin's side. He realized it wasn't proper princely behavior to want to stay and nurse his servant back to health. And that fact only reaffirmed his determination to put some distance between himself and Merlin, whom he was growing far too attached to. It was one of the reasons he often treated the commoner so poorly, hoping to break whatever invisible thread persisted on weaving them together.
Almost as soon as Arthur was out of sight, Merlin began pouting. He was miserable. Try as he might to look on the bright side of things, he frankly couldn't see any bright side. Arthur was going off - alone - and could get himself killed. Meanwhile he was lying in bed unable to do much of anything. What better time for a proper sulk? The young man sighed and looked around the room. Gaze finally lighting on one of Gaius' textbooks, Merlin's eyes glowed golden for a moment and the book flew cleanly into his hand. At least he could study a bit and hopefully manage to please someone.