Chapter Six
Merlin slipped his arms into his jacket as he quietly crept across the room, careful not to wake the loudly snoring Gaius. Once in the halls of the palace, it was a simple matter to make his way up to Arthur's chambers. He was beaming as he jauntily paced the familiar path, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. He hoped Arthur would be happy to see him; it felt like they had been apart for so long.
His footsteps slowed as he reached Arthur's door. Slowly he cracked the door open, peering inside. The prince lay in his bed, fast asleep. Perfect. Merlin slid the door shut behind him with a quiet thump. Footsteps silent, he crossed to Arthur's regal bed, content to slide into it beside him and wait for him to wake up. It wasn't until he slid his arm over the prince gently that he noticed he was completely drenched in sweat.
"No.." He whispered. "No! Arthur," He said, shaking the prince, "Arthur, wake up! You can't be sick! Arthur, no!" His mind panicked, he ran through the snaking halls of the palace back to his own chambers where he shook Gaius awake.
"M-Merlin? What are you doing? What time is it?" Gaius looked around, perturbed.
"Gaius, pay attention! It's Arthur. He's sick." Merlin's voice wavered with emotion. He couldn't believe that Arthur had caught the sickness. Arthur! Of all people to catch it, it had to be the crown prince, and just after he had opened up about his feelings towards Merlin at that.
"Merlin, you need to relax." Gaius could see that Merlin was growing frantic. "I'll see what I can do."
Time seemed to be passing agonizingly slow for Merlin. Nothing was moving fast enough. There wasn't anything Merlin could do, except gently dab a wet cloth across Arthur's face, wiping away the sweat and trying to keep him cool.
"Merlin," Gaius said. "This is all I can do for now, until I find a cure. Try to get some rest, Merlin. You can't do any good standing around here."
Merlin didn't look up from Arthur's pale form, his eyes red with unshed tears, "I'm not leaving him, Gaius."
Silently, he gave Merlin an affectionate pat on the shoulder, his face understanding as he left the room. Merlin took a hold of Arthur's hand, willing him to recover. "Please, Arthur, you have to get better."
Merlin's head was bowed when he heard a mumbled reply. "Merlin..." Arthur croaked, his voice rough and dry. "Merlin..." he whispered again.
"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed. "Shh, Arthur, just rest. I'm here, I'd never leave."
Softly, Merlin pressed his lips to Arthur's forehead, his eyes clenched to hold back the tears. He didn't hear the door open from across the room. What he did hear, was Uther's yelled question. "What do you think you are doing?"
Rising quickly, Merlin stumbled for the right words. "I just - well you see - Arthur and I - "
"Spit it out, boy. Do not think to waste my time!" Uther was staring down at Merlin, his figure imposing.
"The prince and I - " Merlin began.
"The prince and you nothing." Uther spat. "Whatever you think you are allowed to do, or whatever my son has allowed you to do will stop now."
"My lord," Merlin faced the ground. "Arthur and I share something - something special."
"Do not think to address me so frankly! From this moment on, whatever you shared with my son is over. Do you understand that? And if he recovers from this illness, I expect you to not resume any sort of contact with the prince."
"But I am his manservant, sire."
"Not anymore, you aren't." Uther said coldly.