Chapter 3
Warning/s: None that I can think of.
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
A/N: I am back after my massively long hiatus! This chapter is fairly short, but I have pretty much all of the story written now and they're longer than this one, so don't worry ;) I really hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks to everyone for being so understanding about my hiatus x
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Merlin felt very unwell, but still he staggered along the corridors to the Royal Chambers. He hated taking days off, despite how often he moaned to Arthur about them, because if he was ever genuinely ill the entire castle seemed to know and all of the staff mothered him for the rest of the month.
He tripped over nothing but his own feet when he turned round the corner and caught himself by grabbing onto one of the torch-holders, wincing at the bite of the spikes. Luckily there was no torch in it, but it was still a little warm and a few drops of blood dripped down his palm. Merlin stared at the scarlet liquid for a few minutes in fascination before he shook himself awake and pulled a scrap of cloth from his jacket pocket, dabbing at the cuts.
He took the remainder of the trip more slowly and measuring each step in his head. When he finally reached the wooden doors, he plastered a smile onto his face and fisted his hand around the cloth, hoping that Gwen wouldn't notice if she was still there.
Flinging open the doors, Merlin internally sighed in relief when he saw that Gwen had already risen and was no doubt taking a walk somewhere, and Arthur was alone, slumbering in their bed. "Up and at 'em!" he yelled cheerfully, trying to ignore the way his head jolted at the noise and the sluggishness of his movements as he drew the curtains.
Arthur made his usual sound of irritation at being woken up, which Merlin ignored, and began to set out Arthur's morning work. He would fetch breakfast in a minute – he needed to get Arthur up first, and dressed.
"Merlin, you look terrible," Arthur said, with all of his usual tact.
Merlin frowned. "Look, I know I didn't get much sleep last night, but—"
"Not like that, you idiot," Arthur growled. He swung himself out of bed and grabbed Merlin's wrist, tugging him over to his table and steering him to a chair. "Your hand's bleeding, for a start, you're pale and sweating, and you can't focus your eyes." The king peered at him. "Why did you come into work today?"
"I'm fine," Merlin insisted, trying to stand up once more, but his limbs seemed to be made of lead and he fell back down. "I just hate storms. They make me nervous," he lied.
"Why?" Out of all of the things his manservant could have said, that was not the one that Arthur was expecting.
"When we had storms in Ealdor, it would destroy all of the crops and leave us starving. It's a left-over habit," Merlin lied smoothly, hoping that Arthur, not knowing much about peasant life, would just accept the lie.
He did, and moved on to say, "Well, I think it's starting to clear up anyway. I reckon it'll be gone by this afternoon."
At this news, Merlin perked up a little. He had a feeling this storm was magical somehow, and he didn't like it. He just hoped it wasn't dark magic.
Arthur had been right – the storm started to leave off by noon, and by mid-way through the afternoon, it ended. Several things happened at once when it ended – Merlin, in the middle of watching the knights do their training, suddenly yelped as he saw a tornado of light purple dust heading towards him at speed, and promptly collapsed when it hit him. The knights all rushed over to him, checking that he was breathing and for any obvious wounds, and were baffled when they saw none. Gaius was summoned to the field and the sky became bright red for just a flash, barely even a second.
Gaius announced that Merlin seemed to have just fainted, and mentioned that it could be from lack of sleep or food, both of which the manservant had not been getting enough of recently. So Arthur managed to stop worrying quite as much – although he'd never admit to worrying at all – and Percival carried Merlin to his room and everything seemed to be fine.
What the anxious group of friends who gathered in Gaius's chambers, to be there in case Merlin woke up soon, didn't realise was how tortured Merlin's mind currently was. He didn't twitch or moan in his sleep, but his mind was back in the strange realm and people with beetles for eyes and he was in excruciating agony and he just couldn't seem to wake up – and now somebody was coming for him.
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A/N: Leave me a review so I don't think I'm entirely terrible? Xxx