A/N: Sorry, I'm almost a week late. Actually, considering how it's now after midnight, I AM a week late. I'm sorry if this seems disjointed, I wrote the first bit in a car last weekend . . . which was and interesting experience. (Homecoming week . . . late as usual at my school.)

This chapter is dedicated to Vaughntronic , who spent what was probably quite a while binge-reading this story. I'm so glad you find this interesting!

(I really don't know why I do this to these characters . . . which should make you glad I DO NOT OWN THEM! (with the exception of Yara Mair))

Read and Review and I hope you like this chapter, and am sorry if you don't. Also . . . I was listening to the song 'Asleep' sung by Emily Browning while I wrote most of this chapter . . . which is a beautifully harrowing song, I recommend it.

Arthur POV

Arthur was woken in the morning by Gwen. He groaned, turning over as the young woman threw back the curtains. For a moment, Arthur wondered where Merlin was. Then it hit him. "Oh God, Gwen, Merlin," he gasped. And suddenly he could barely breathe. Arthur had no idea how he had fallen asleep last night, because the fear was squeezing his heart so hard it hurt.

"Merlin's alive, Arthur," Gwen said, kissing him lightly on the forehead as he stood up from the bed. "Elyan went to check earlier this morning. Lancelot said there was a scare at some point during the night, but Merlin pulled out of it fine." Arthur was only half-listening from behind the changing screen, but froze in the act of tugging his tunic on over his head when Gwen spoke again. "Gaius says that he's not out of danger yet, though. And he still hasn't woken up yet." He pulled the red fabric down roughly, walking from behind the screen to look at Gwen.

"What does 'not out of danger' mean?" Gwen shrugged, but Arthur could see the worry in her eyes.

"I don't know," she said, "But Arthur . . . I'm afraid." Arthur embraced her quickly, pressing her into him, taking some comfort in her closeness, and hopefully offering some in return. His own heart was thudding in his chest, and it was all he could do not to sprint strait to the physician's rooms. But it wasn't kingly to sprint, so . . . .

"Come on Gwen, let's go check on him," he said quietly, leading her towards the doors.

"Without breakfast," she said quietly. "You do realize you are worried over a servant."

"I can worry about my precious propriety later," Arthur said, echoing Gwen from a conversation that seemed to have taken place a lifetime ago. She gave a quiet chuckle at that, following him out into the castle corridor outside his door.

Servants bustled around them as Arthur and Gwen made their way to Gaius' chambers. A few of them stopped to talk to Gwen, and after the third instance, as Arthur waited impatiently for Gwen to end the conversation, Arthur realized that they were asking after Merlin. They asked with worry in their eyes and fear on their faces. Even a few nobles stopped Gwen with a light touch on her arm, asking after the serving boy. Many times, they offered condolences through the relief that Gwen's news brought. When Arthur asked why, Gwen gave him an exasperated look.

"People aren't thick, Arthur," she said. "Even a few nobles noticed that the two of you are more friends than master and servant."

"Unusual nobles," Arthur noted. Gwen gave a little laugh. The laugh was so different from her laugh, the sound heavier than normal, almost as if it was forced and heavy in her throat.

They arrived at Gaius' chambers not long after that, and Arthur suddenly found the fear welling up again. What if something bad had happened since Gwen had been told Merlin was alright? What if he wasn't alright anymore? What if . . . what if . . . what if . . . .

It was Leon who opened the door to the physician's chambers. Arthur had forgotten that the man was on patrol, and the knight's dirty armor showed that another of the knights had found the man before he had gotten to the armory. Leon looked a little shell-shocked, the skin around his eyes tight and red. Silently, he let them into the room.

Lancelot was sitting against one wall, looking like he had dozed off there a few moments ago, and Gaius was looking through some huge tomes full of healing knowledge. Merlin was still laying on the bed. He looked no different than the day before, and it took Arthur a while after he had sat down to notice that the bandages were gone, the skin crossed in white scars. "What?" he asked quietly, "How did they heal so quickly?"

"A tincture of yarrow," said Gaius, without looking up from his books. Gwen ran dark fingers across Merlin's pale wrists, tracing the scars that stood out there. One particular pattern stood out to Arthur. "Will these scars ever fade?" he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse and breaking. He was afraid, so very afraid. Please, he thought, please say they will.

"I'm afraid they will not," Gaius said sadly, still resolutely facing the books, though Arthur had eyes only for the word carved into Merlin's arm. Arthur wanted to break down at the thought of that word being there forever, a constant reminder of the day . . . of yesterday. MONSTER. Why? Why would Merlin . . . why!?

Leon had leaned against one wall, eyes trained on Merlin's pale, unmoving face. "You'll call for me, Gaius, if anything changes?" He asked hoarsely. Gaius nodded absently, setting aside the book he had been looking at for a moment, before picking up another that littered the table.

Arthur didn't know how long he sat there . . . it was a long time, he supposed, because at some point Gwen had gone to see to some menial task or another with a gentle squeeze of Arthur's shoulder. Merlin was alive, which was good. The wounds had healed quickly, thanks to Gaius' medicine, which was also good. But he still wasn't awake, and something about that scared Arthur. He didn't want any of this to continue. He knew he was shirking his duties as King, but he just couldn't bring himself to care. Merlin would want him to be responsible, he knew this, but Merlin couldn't tell him that, could he? Arthur would gladly hear everything they boy had to say on the matter, if he would just. Wake. Up!

Lancelot woke sometime after the mid-day meal, doing so silently. At that point, Arthur was staring fixedly at the wall, thumb idly stroking the back of Merlin's hand, the only unscarred part of the young servant that Arthur could reach easily.

"He'll be alright," Lancelot said from behind him, making Arthur jump. He didn't mean to snarl back the way he did, he really didn't. But Arthur just couldn't help it.

"You call this alright?" He growled, gesturing towards Merlin's wrists. Toward the word carved into his arms. What made him do this? Not something that has disappeared in the last day!"

"Maybe if you ask, he'll tell you when he wakes up," The knight said, stretching. "You know," he said as he relaxed again, hands behind his back. "I've heard that unconscious people can still sometimes hear people they care about if those people speak to them. Merlin's really upset about something, maybe if you spoke to him . . ." he must have seen Arthur's incredulous look. "Oh, come on, it's not as if you don't care for him too. As a friend, as a confidant, as your rock. He's those things to the rest of us too. I'm pretty sure the only reason Gwaine hasn't visited yet is because he doesn't think he's brave enough to see his rock like this. Merlin is his driving force, the reason he became a knight at all. The only reason I became one, come to think of it. Without him, I would never have stood a chance."

"None of us would have," Arthur agreed quietly.

"Sometimes," Lancelot said, settling down at the table Gaius had occupied earlier (the physician had had to make rounds in the lower town, life didn't stop, no matter how much they all assumed it would, and should). "Sometimes I think we need to be reminded that Merlin is a human being. That he's not a regular servant. I think there's more to him than what we know."

"There's always been more to him," Arthur said quietly. He didn't even understand why he was being quiet, as if Merlin might overhear. "One moment he's tripping over his own feet, and the next he's telling me that I'll be the greatest king Camelot has ever seen." He gave a bitter laugh. "I'm not really living up to that right now, am I?"

"You're giving it your best shot," Lancelot said, looking down at Merlin. "And he asks no more from you than that."