A/N: Thank you, thank you, everyone who read the first chapter! I wasn't expecting that large of a positive response, so seeing them was a hugely gratifying experience. Special thanks go to mersan123 and Candle-lit Dreams for reviewing; it's really amazing to get any kind of feedback on my writing. This next one is a little heavier on the whump, but I hope you like it.

Socotra is a real place. It is an archipelago of four islands in the Arabian Sea, and its name roughly translates to "Isle of Bliss." I chose it for the setting of this story because I liked the name, but it has no real relevance or historical accurracy on any of the following plot.

Also, I am not a doctor, and have minimal skills and knowledge of medicine. All inconsistencies and errors are mine.

Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine. Please don't sue me. Namaste.

2. Snakebite

Merlin forced his legs to work faster, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he struggled to continue climbing in the rough terrain. Keep moving, have to keep moving, he chanted silently to himself. Finally, he crested the top of the hill, leg muscles screaming in protest with the strain. He slowed down to a walk, and flopped onto the ground.

"I...I have made it to the top...of the hill," he said in between gasps, chest heaving.

"This is...is my life now. I have...climbed this hill, and...and now I will die upon it," he finished breathlessly, closing his eyes and letting his head loll to the side.

Arthur rolled his eyes and walked past Merlin's prone figure. "Shut up, Merlin. We've only been hiking for twenty minutes."

Merlin's head shot up. "What? Just twenty minutes?"

"You're going to have to move faster than that if we want to reach the kingdom of Socotra before nightfall," Arthur called to him, not looking back.

Merlin groaned, and rolled to his feet. King Uther had ordered them to go to the kingdom of Socotra in order to, hopefully, negotiate a trade agreement between the two kingdoms. Socotra was known as the most skilled metal-working and forging kingdom in all the land, and the king of Camelot hoped to gain some of their superior metal-work, in exchange for the rich farming supplies and crop yields that Camelot provided.

Merlin huffed in annoyance, thinking back to the king's words as he had sent them on their way. 'Try to institute a trade agreement with them. At the very least, establish diplomatic relations. They are a proud and fierce people, Arthur. You must keep your wits about you when you are negotiating,' the king had said, looking directly into Arthur's eyes.

'Yes, Father,' Arthur had answered, before turning on his heel and beginning the journey. 'I will not fail in this.'

And so, twenty minutes later as Arthur had so helpfully pointed out, Merlin was getting hot and tired from the unrelenting pace that Arthur had set.

"Why couldn't we have just taken horses?" Merlin asked waspishly as he stumbled after Arthur.

"The people of Socotra believe the horse to be a noble animal used only in times of battle or war," Arthur answered patiently, although he didn't stop walking. "If we came riding into their kingdom, no formal declaration of war would be necessary; we would be dead before we passed the gates."

Merlin mulled this information over, aware of just how hot the sun was on the top of his head. "Well, why are we going? The King usually handles this sort of thing, along with several members of the Council, doesn't he?" Merlin asked, still trying to find a reason, any reason, that ended with them going back to Camelot.

Arthur sighed, but answered in a mild tone. "It was essential that I am the one to establish diplomatic relations with the Court in Socotra, because it signals peaceful intentions from the start. It is a sign of great trust that Father sends me to a new land, because the people of Socotra know that I am the Crown-Prince and heir to the throne of Camelot."

Merlin thought this over too, and saw that it made sense. However, his feet were starting to hurt.

"What does that even mean, 'diplomatic relations?'" he asked sulkily.

"It mean we need to express our peaceful sentiments and good wishes to the people of Socotra to ensure future dealings with them," Arthur said shortly, getting annoyed at Merlin's reluctance.

"No, it means you get to flirt with the ladies of the Court and watch them all swoon and sign any treaty establishing 'diplomatic relations' with Camelot, provided that you come back to visit for any 'future dealings,'" Merlin muttered childishly.

Arthur, however, caught every word.

"That's an interesting notion. Maybe you can ruminate more deeply on it when we get back to Camelot, while you're polishing my armor, mending my clothes, cleaning my room, and getting the training equipment ready for the knight's graduation ceremony next week," Arthur said smoothly, a hint of anger coloring his otherwise neutral tone.

Merlin sighed. Arthur picked up the pace, and the tense lines of his posture told Merlin that he would make good on his threats later. Merlin was about to protest further, but noticed the way that Arthur was deliberately walking, and realized that if he complained one more time, he was liable to get a rock thrown at his head.

For the next three and a half hours, Merlin trailed behind Arthur in silence, just keeping up. Finally, Arthur stopped. "We're making good time," Arthur said, taking a long drink from a water skin he pulled from his pack. Merlin nodded, too out of breath to answer, and decided to drink something as well.

"At this pace, we should make it to Socotra well before nightfall. We may even make it back to Camelot by mid-morning tomorrow if we keep this up," Arthur said, obviously pleased.

"Oh, great!" Merlin brightened at this news momentarily, although the thought of walking all night didn't seem very appealing to him. Still, it could have been worse.

"Alright, come on. Let's get moving," Arthur said, cutting their impromptu break short. Merlin heaved himself to his feet, and was about to follow Arthur when he felt a piercing pain shoot through his left calf. With a cry of pain, he twisted just in time to see a black, shadowy shape slither away through the grass. Merlin's leg gave another painful throb, and his good leg caught on some brush. Merlin fell hard to the ground, unable to do anything but grunt in pain. Arthur sighed, turning around.

"Merlin, I swear if you're trying to get another break, I will personally make sure that you…" he trailed off, seeing the pale face of his servant bunched up in pain.

"Merlin?" he asked, feeling a tendril of unease curl in his stomach. Merlin just writhed on the ground, feeling the pain intensify. He sensed Arthur drop down beside him, and opened his eyes to find Arthur looking at him with concern.

"My leg, there was a—a snake, Arthur." Merlin said, fighting to get the words out. The pain was making the air rattle around in his mouth.

"Did you recognize it? What kind of snake?" Arthur asked urgently, rolling up Merlin's left pant leg to look at the wound.

"I—I don't know!" Merlin said desperately, jaw clenched around the scream that wanted to force itself out.

Arthur hissed in sympathy when he saw the snake bite. The two puncture wounds were a deep red color, in stark contrast with Merlin's pale skin. Merlin's breath hitched as Arthur gently rotated his leg to get a better look at the ragged perforations.

"Sorry, sorry," Arthur apologized. Merlin said nothing, whole body shaking as sweat ran down his face.

"We're closer to Socotra now than we are to Camelot," Arthur told Merlin, fighting to keep his voice calm. "If we keep going, we'll get there in a few hours. They'll be able to help," he said, trying to think through their limited options.

Merlin laughed mirthlessly. "Why would they help us?" he managed. "They don't even know us, and we're from a rival kingdom. Camelot will seem weak if we beg for their help on a diplomacy mission." He broke off, groaning as another wave of pain broke over him.

"Better to seem weak than to be so," Arthur said briskly.

"The King won't see it that way," Merlin gasped, voicing Arthur's thoughts. "The life of a servant is not worth the potential to be gained from an alliance with Socotra. You must go on, Arthur."

Merlin's eyes sought out Arthur's, trying to convey his meaning, trying to make him see.

Arthur however, shook his head. "No," he said stubbornly. "We'll go to Socotra. They will help us," he said resolutely.

Merlin's eyes burned with tears of frustration and pain. "You don't understand, you prat! Camelot cannot be put into debt on my account. We don't know what they will ask in return, and we can't risk that! As it sits, we have a bargaining chip. If we go in asking for help right off, we throw that out the window! The fact that you're the Crown Prince might not be enough to grant you diplomatic immunity once inside the kingdom, and they could do with you as they please!" Merlin gasped as a sudden spasm of pain shot up his leg, making his back arch up, tears streaming down his face.

Arthur's frayed string of patience snapped. "What would you have me do, Merlin? I will not leave you here!" He grabbed Merlin's arm, hauling him to an upright position that made Merlin cry out. He hefted him onto his back in a secure hold and began walking towards Socotra.

Merlin tried to say something, but ended up unable to focus on anything as the sudden shift in position left his head spinning dizzy. Arthur kept walking, feeling his friend shake in pain, although he kept quiet. Arthur walked until the muscles in his back and legs ached. By his reckoning, they were about half an hour's walk from the Socotra domain, but daylight was starting to fade. Arthur carefully put Merlin down, noting the wince that this slight movement brought, and took out his water skin in offering. The dark-haired man grimaced and shook his head, nausea making his stomach cramp.

"You should drink something," Arthur persisted. "We'll be in Socotra soon."

Merlin closed his eyes. Arthur noted that his eyelids were a bruised purple in a gray face lined with exhaustion.

"How do you know they'll even be able to do anything, Arthur?" Merlin said, opening his eyes which were thankfully clear. "They are a metal-working kingdom. They don't specialize in healing and medicine, and Camelot is one of the best in that respect because of Gaius," he said, through chattering teeth. He had begun to shake again, and his body hurt from the tension shivering brought.

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said, tone brooking no argument. He hadn't allowed himself to think about it while he was carrying Merlin, and now those fears were creeping from the dark corners of his mind, whispering doubts into his ear. He shook his head as if to banish the oppressions of his own thoughts, and made to pick Merlin up again.

"Just a little longer," Merlin begged. He didn't think he could handle being moved again. Arthur looked heartbreakingly torn for a moment, then his face hardened.

"Sorry, Merlin. The longer we stay here, the less chance we have of making it in time. We have to keep moving."

He then hoisted Merlin up once again. Merlin gasped raggedly, his vision turning gray. After what seemed like a long time through the gray haze-or was it only a few moments?—Merlin dimly realized he was moving, swaying easily with Arthur's steady gait. He shook with pain, unable to do anything else. He briefly considered using magic, but dismissed this thought almost as soon as it had appeared. Even if he did reveal his magic to Arthur, he didn't know any spells to heal himself. It was no use.

Arthur stumbled slightly on a rock, causing racking waves of pain to run through Merlin again. He was vaguely aware that tears were rolling uncontrollably down his face and thought incoherently that Arthur was going to call him a baby if he didn't stop. The gray, painless place beckoned to him, and Merlin let himself be swept away by the tide of unconsciousness.

Arthur felt his friend go limp, and quickened his pace. He didn't have long now. "We're almost there, Merlin," Arthur said, mostly to reassure himself. Finally, finally, he caught sight of the proud stone towers of Socotra. He moved faster yet, strength renewed. As he approached the main gates, he was met by the unfriendly faces of two guards.

"I am Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot," the blond man said, a bit breathlessly. "We were on our way to establish a peaceful relationship between our kingdoms when my friend was bitten by a snake. Please, he needs help."

The guards looked at him impassively, until Arthur had to fight the impulse to scream at them to move. At this rate, Merlin was going to die, all because they couldn't get past the gates of the place that held the power to save him. Finally, the guards stepped aside.

"This way," one of them said in a deep voice, leading Arthur into the heart of the main city. Even in the urgent situation, Arthur couldn't help but note the amazing structure of the kingdom. Metal was present in every place he could see: buildings had long rails and swooping parapets, accentuated by gracefully curved arches and wrought-iron designs, all the signs were made of metal, and the castle itself was a made of a curious combination of metal and stone, giving it a dark color that hinted at great strength and power

The guard led Arthur underneath a tall archway, into a building with high ceilings and bustling with , men and women walked to and fro, each absorbed in some task or another. Arthur was suddenly reminded of a beehive. They were approached by a thin girl no older than Merlin wearing an apron with her dark hair swept back into a tight bun and a no-nonsense look.

"Bring him this way," she ordered, gesturing further into the room, where there were perhaps a dozen beds lined up against the wall, amongst tables and benches holding medical supplies and equipment, the purpose of which Arthur could only guess at. The efficiency of this place was fantastic, Arthur thought. He made a mental note to tell Gaius of this; Camelot could benefit greatly from a more structured approach.

"Set him down here," the girl said, turning to a nearby bench and putting various ingredients into a small bowl. Her hands were sure and quick as she expertly ground it together and added water, creating a paste. She turned back to Arthur. "Where did he get bit?" she asked bluntly.

Arthur's mouth dropped open. "How did you—"

"I just know!' she snapped. "Where?"

"His left calf," Arthur said numbly, still in awe of the skill and medical knowledge of one so young.

She rolled Merlin's pant leg up, revealing the ugly puncture marks. Merlin didn't stir as she gently prodded at them with nimble fingers. She took the poultice from the bowl and spread it evenly over the wounds, before applying moss to the top of it, acting as a type of bandage.

"This will draw out the venom," the girl said, not looking up from her work. She pulled a small glass vial with a stopper from one of the many pockets on her apron, and tilted Merlin's head back, forcing the liquid down his throat.

"That will ease some of the pain and aid in the healing process. He should regain consciousness in a few minutes," she said, seeming to relax a little.

Arthur felt a tremendous burden lift from his shoulders.

"I…Thank you," he said. The girl looked at him, and suddenly her face lit up in an unexpected, wonderful smile that made the room seem brighter.

"You're welcome. Now, as I understand, you two have business with the Court," she said, checking to make sure the bandage on Merlin's leg was securely fastened.

"Yes," Arthur answered, suddenly dreading the thought of what Uther would say when he realized that he had indebted Camelot to Socotra. The girl looked up sharply, as if she could sense Arthur's thoughts, and her voice was suddenly gentle.

"Here, it is customary that the hungry are given food, the homeless given shelter, the sick and injured cared for. This is the way of Socotra and shall bear no effect on the matters you wish to discuss, nor our opinion of your kingdom, for we have heard tales of the nobility and decency of Camelot," she said, respectfully bowing her head. "I am certain the Queen would be honored to form an alliance between our kingdoms, to benefit us both." The girl smiled again, simply, and Arthur realized that she was very beautiful.

She cleared her throat. "He'll be fine in a little while," she said, looking down at Merlin. Already, the snake bite was beginning to look less inflamed.

"I have other duties to attend to, but it was an honor to meet you, Prince Arthur." She bobbed in a quick curtsy.

"The pleasure was all mine, Miss…" Arthur trailed off uncertainly.

"Elinor Brook. Nell," she said, offering Arthur another quick smile.

"Nell," Arthur said, returning her smile. "You saved my friend. That is a debt I can never repay." He looked earnestly into her eyes.

"Just make me a promise and we'll call it even," she said quietly, stepping closer.

"Anything," Arthur said instantly.

"Promise you'll come to visit again, but not like this!" Nell said, eyes dancing with good humor.

Arthur was about to respond when he heard a weak, "I knew it," come from the bed. He looked over and saw Merlin sitting up on his elbows, still pale but conscious and looking much better than earlier.

"Oh, so now you wake up?" Arthur grinned at Merlin. "This is perfect, actually. On the way back, you can carry me, how's that?" he said seriously, although his expression belayed the heat behind his words.

Merlin grinned back, unable to help it.

"Yes, sire."