Merlin felt a pair of strong hands over his wound. The pain was unbearable, even when he was unconscious. He felt himself screaming. The hands, however, did not move from their spot.

As Merlin fell deeper into unconsciousness, he dreamed he was with Morgana. He saw her pacing around. Aithusa was staring at her with forlorn eyes. She was muttering about Emrys.

Seeing Aithusa in such a state made his blood boil. Oh, how he wanted to just grab hold of her and wake up with her in his bed.

Before he could even think about moving, his dream shifted. He was standing next to Arthur. Arthur was sitting next to his body, with tears silently falling.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked, hoping the king could hear him.

Arthur didn't move from where he was. "You have an infection and a fever. No treatments have worked. You've been unconscious for two days now. Gaius is telling everyone to prepare for the worst." the king looked at where Merlin was standing, but his gaze was unfocused as if the warlock wasn't really there. "You have to get better."

Before Merlin could say or do anything, his dream shifted again. Now he was in Kilgharrah's cave. Merlin looked at the dragon. "What's happening to me?"

"Young warlock, I fear you are in grave danger. The infection from your wound has spread to your heart. If not treated immediately, it will enter your brain, and you will die," Kilgharrah explained.

"Then cure me," Merlin demanded.

"This is only a dream. I cannot cure you unless you are here," The Great Dragon pointed out.

"Then wake me up, so I can have Arthur bring me here," Merlin suggested.

"He makes his way here as we speak. He will be here in a matter of hours," Kilgharrah answered.

Merlin looked at the dragon before falling into a world of pure darkness.

Arthur could see the cave up ahead. He looked at Merlin, who had been securely placed in front of him. "Come on, Merlin, hold on for just a bit longer. You are not to die. That's an order."

He gave his horse a kick to make him go faster. They were running out of time. If he didn't reach the dragon soon, Merlin would die, and this trip would be for nothing.

Arthur thought back to three days ago when the infection started.

The thread Gaius had used had apparently been laced with poison. Despite treating the poison with the proper antidote, an infection emerged.

Gaius did everything he could think to treat it, but no matter what he did, it got worse. Over the course of the next two days, the infection spread to Merlin's heart. If it were to reach his brain, he would die a most painful death.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, Arthur fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamed of a dragon giving him directions to his cave and promising that he alone could save Merlin.

When Arthur awoke, he set out as quickly as possible and rode for the cave in his dream.

Arthur rode the horse as far as it could take him. He gently got Merlin off of the horse and carried him up the steep climb to the entrance of the cave. Merlin's breathing had become slow and shallow. His body was colder than it was when he came into contact with a Dorocha. He had an hour at best.

As Arthur reached the top of the cave, he saw a massive creature awaiting his arrival, the Great Dragon. The king reached the cave's entrance and laid Merlin down before bowing. "I come to you in the name of peace and hope. Please save my friend. I don't think I could rule this kingdom without him at my side."

"I will heal the young warlock, but not because you ask me to. I will heal him because of the future I know you will build together," Kilgharrah replied.

"Thank you," Arthur said as he watched the dragon blow what he could only have guessed was an enchantment on Merlin.

When the dragon was done, he looked at Arthur. "He will not wake for perhaps another day while the enchantment does its job. I suggest you take him and head for Camelot as soon as possible."

Arthur bowed again before picking Merlin up off the cave floor. "I will not forget this. Thank you again."

"Farewell, Arthur Pendragon," Kilgharrah replied. "We will meet again, but under much worse circumstances."

Merlin woke up to the warmth of a blazing fire and the sight of Arthur staring at him.

"You're awake," Arthur stated. "Took your sweet time about it too."

Merlin slowly sat up, bracing himself for the pain, but only felt a dull throb. He placed his hand around his midsection and felt the wound that was still there and bandaged.

"The Great Dragon managed to cure you of an infection and speed up your healing process. He's carved a few weeks off of your recovery," Arthur explained.

"He tends to do that," Merlin pointed out.

"How would you know?" The king asked as he poked the fire.

"Serket sting," Merlin answered.

Arthur nodded in understanding. It was one of the first stories Merlin had shared with him about his magic.

Merlin looked at the forest surrounding them. "How much further to Camelot?"

"A day give or take some hours," Arthur answered.

Another question formed in the warlock's mind. "How did I receive the infection?"

"Poisoned thread," Arthur said solemnly. "Despite curing you, it left you with an untreatable infection."

"Do you know who did it?" Merlin wondered.

"Guard Charlton. He opposed the repeal. He hoped that if you died, I would reban magic. When we get back, judgement will be passed," Arthur informed. "What do you think we should do?"

"Banish him," Merlin shrugged, beginning to feel very tired. His eyes started to close as he laid back down.

Arthur swatted his leg. "You are not sleeping until you eat something. That's an order."

"I'm not hungry," Merlin stated.

"You need to eat. You're far too skinny. You look like death barely warmed up. Which you are," Arthur argued.

Merlin reluctantly sat back up and took the bowl of hot stew Arthur had prepared for him. It wasn't until he took his first bite that he realised he was, in fact, hungry. Correction, he was starving. He practically inhaled the stew. Arthur seemed to read his mind and refilled the bowl. Merlin inhaled that, helping as well. The process repeated itself three more times. After his last bowl, Merlin felt like his stomach was going to burst, but he didn't care.

"So much for not being hungry," Arthur teased.

"I just didn't realise I was until I finally ate something," Merlin defended.

Arthur chuckled. "I believe you. I've been that way before. Get some rest. We'll start travelling again at dawn."

Merlin didn't need to be told twice. He had a full belly and a dry cloth. He was content to sleep.

Halfway through the following day, the two friends arrived back in Camelot.

Arthur and a guard helped Merlin walk back to his chambers. Not long after they got him settled, Gaius walked in. "I'm very glad to see the trip was a success," Gaius stated as he looked at Arthur and Merlin. "Let's take a look at that wound."

Gaius removed the bandages and examined the wound in its entirety. "It looks like it won't need any more stitches. It's closed and healing on its own, but applying a poultice every twelve hours should help it heal faster."

"How much longer will my recovery be then?" Merlin asked.

"I'd say another three weeks you could be up and walking around with the aid of a cane and doing some low-effort tasks," Gaius informed. "After that, about a year with a cane, you should be able to walk on your own two feet."

If Merlin could leap for joy, he would. He just had to wait three more weeks then he could wander around the castle without assistance from anyone. He didn't even care that he'd be doing chores. If he was being honest with himself, he missed working.