Chapter 2
"So much for a fuss out of nothing."
Merlin glared at Arthur, but the effect was undermined by the distant, feverish glaze to his eyes. The warlock had been drifting in and out of sleep for an hour now, a worrying wheeze starting up in his chest.
"Kilgharrah thinks this is your fault by the way." Arthur waved a hand to Merlin's window, where the storm continued to rage. "Something about your magic. How in heaven did your mother cope when you got sick as a child?"
"Didn't get sick." Merlin coughed wetly into his sleeve. "Strong as an ox, me."
He certainly didn't look strong as an ox right now, propped against a mountain of pillows and as pale as the sheets he lay on. "I suppose you have to be, given all the trouble you seem to attract."
Merlin smiled faintly. "Keeps things exciting."
"Well, perhaps we could do with a little less excitement?"
"Whatever you want," Merlin mumbled, and fell back to sleep just as Gwen entered with a fresh pail of water.
"How is he?"
"Feverish. Tired." Arthur took the pail and used it to wet a cloth, which he lay across Merlin's worryingly hot forehead. "Any word from Gaius?"
Gwen shook her head. "Last we heard he was still on the Northern border. Anyway, there's no chance he could make it back to Camelot through this weather. I spoke to Kilgharrah, asked if he knew what sort of treatments they used in Gawant, but Merlin had him patrolling the skies almost the entire time they were there. He wanted to make sure no one attacked while the Kingdom was in such a vulnerable state."
"I suppose it's down to us then," Arthur resolved, but looked decidedly apprehensive when Merlin murmured something under his breath and the thunder rumbled ominously in response.
They stayed with Merlin through the night. As his condition deteriorated, odd things started happening throughout the castle. Reports came in of bottles in the kitchens shattering of their own accord, animals appearing where before there had stood statues, and books in the library levitating off the shelves...
Occasionally Merlin would come to, his golden irises flashing in time with the lightning outside the windows as he muttered nonsense. His breathing grew more strained, worryingly shallow and frequently interrupted by harsh coughing.
"What if Kilgharrah were to fetch Gaius?" Gwen suggested desperately as Merlin tossed and turned with restless moans. "We have to do something."
"He won't like it." The dragon had made his distaste for their Court Physician very clear in the past, though for what reason Arthur had no idea. "But perhaps it's worth a try."
"You have to get better," Arthur ordered Merlin in his most kingly voice, helping the sickly warlock to drink. Merlin watched him suspiciously over the rim of the goblet, his uncharacteristic silence unnerving. "Kilgharrah even agreed to let Gaius ride him, he's so worried about you. "
Merlin pushed the goblet away, shaking his head. "D'n't... want..."
"Come on," Arthur coaxed, his teasing facade dropping in the face of his friend's feverish confusion. "Just a bit more, Merlin."
"'S poison," Merlin hissed, and fell promptly back to sleep. Arthur sighed and set aside the goblet a little too hard, cursing as the undrunk water went sploshing over the sides.
"Here."
He jumped, having not noticed Gwen standing in the doorway. She took a spare linen and wiped the liquid away, while Arthur clenched his hands together in an attempt to stop them trembling. It had been a long, exhausting night.
"If this fever doesn't break soon..."
"It will."
He took her in properly then. Her dress was filthy from hours of hard work, and her face was pinched with tiredness. He didn't think she had ever looked more beautiful.
The ring was still in his trouser pocket, had stayed there since the picnic. As bizarre a time, place and occasion this was to propose in, it felt undeniably right.
Or it would have, had Merlin not chosen that exact moment to vanish into thin air.
Once Merlin was safe, Arthur was certain they would all laugh about this. And he would be safe, the King added firmly to himself, because any alternative was unacceptable.
For now, though, Arthur stood in front of his inner circle of knights, who all looked worse for wear. Percival and Leon were sodden from traipsing between the Lower Town and the palace to ensure all the townspeople were well protected against the unprecedented storm, whilst Gwaine and Elyan were covered in scratches from wrangling magically transformed animals out of the castle corridors.
"Merlin is missing," Arthur told them gravely. "We do not believe he has been taken by any outside force, but rather that his magic uh... teleported him away. He's very sick," he added by way of explanation.
Understanding dawned in Elyan's eyes. "Is that what's to blame for all these odd goings on?"
"Indeed. With his fever so high, he's probably very confused and-" Arthur stumbled over the next words, because no matter how powerful he understood Merlin to be, it still felt odd to describe him as so. "-and very dangerous. So if you find him, try and get him back to his chambers, but don't spook him. Alright?"
The knights all nodded and went to engage in what Gwaine would later refer to as the best game of hide-and-seek that Camelot had ever seen.
Leon and Gwaine happened upon Merlin first, hiding out in a storage room close to the kitchens. Before they could say anything he had bellowed a spell that sent Leon skidding back down the corridor.
"Easy Merlin." Gwaine raised his hands pacifyingly. "It's just us. You're safe."
Perspiration glinted on Merlin's face and he swayed unsteadily. "Gwaine?"
Gwaine smiled and took a step closer. "How about we get you back to bed?"
Merlin looked to be genuinely considering this, but was distracted when an enormous winged cat came careening down the corridor.
"Look out!"
His eyes flashed and the creature was blasted away in a pillar of fire. Leon swiftly regained his feet and hurried over to examine the smoking carcass.
"It's the statue from the east wing. I thought you and Elyan took care of all the animals?"
Gwaine scratched his head, befuddled. "Yeah I thought we did, too. Merlin, did you- Aw hell."
The warlock was nowhere to be seen.
He showed up in the armoury next, shunting swords and maces through the air with a distinct sense of purpose. Percival, the one who found him, approached cautiously - he didn't much fancy ending up on the sharp end of any of the flying weapons.
"Merlin?" he called tentatively. "What er... What are you up to?"
Merlin spun round and the swords and maces clattered to the floor.
"For the council," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His voice was a dry rasp, his chest wheezing painfully. "I'm late."
With this, and a bright flash of gold, he was gone again.
He reappeared in the Palace gardens next, under a large oak tree. It was Elyan who spotted him this time and, remembering a lesson his father had taught him about avoiding tall trees during thunderstorms, cupped both hands around his mouth to bellow a warning.
Before he had the chance, however, Merlin had vanished once more - and the oak tree with him.
On Gwen's insistence that he would be no use to Merlin if he collapsed, Arthur had begrudgingly agreed to eat with her whilst the knights searched the castle. He picked at his food listlessly, only half-listening to Gwen's attempts to cheer him, and watched the rain batter relentlessly against one of the dining hall's large, stained glass windows.
Halfway through the meal, there was a deafening crack, a flash of light, and suddenly Merlin was there - along with an oak tree so large that it smashed through the same window Arthur had just been looking at, spraying colourful glass everywhere.
Gwen recovered from the shock of this sudden appearance faster than Arthur and ran to Merlin's side. He was soaked through, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. Slowly, he sunk to the ground, taking in the chaos around him with utter bewilderment.
"Merlin? Are you alright?"
His gaze sharpened on Gwen.
"I think I might be sick."
Despite himself, Arthur started to laugh.
They hauled Merlin back to his chambers, Arthur snapping at a passing servant to get a fire lit.
Merlin, recognising the edge to Arthur's tone even in his delirium, raised his head and muttered, "No need to be... an ass about it..."
They dried him off and got him into bed. Once settled, Gwen laid a hand on his forehead and smiled.
"His fever has gone down."
Arthur fairly sagged with relief. "Well thank the Gods for that."
The storm vanished just as suddenly as it began, proving without a doubt that it was Merlin's magic which had been responsible. Not long afterward, Kilgharrah returned with Gaius.
"Sire," the old physician greeted Arthur as he entered Merlin's room. "How is he doing?"
"Much better, Gaius. I'm sorry we called you all the way back here."
Gaius waved away the apology. "Better safe than sorry. The pox is cleared now, so there's no harm done."
He checked over Merlin, who snored peacefully away, and looked happy with what he found.
"From what I've heard of this illness and how it progresses, he seems to be through the worst of it."
"So he'll wake... soon?"
Gaius smiled at the King's ill-disguised concern. "This is natural sleep now, no fever. I understand he caused quite a ruckus while he was sick?"
"Take a look at the tree poking out of the dining hall window and decide for yourself."
Gaius shook his head in fond amusement. "Well, he has never been one to do things by halves."
Without meaning to, Arthur found himself dozing off at Merlin's bedside, the excitement of the last day or so finally catching up with him. He was woken by a gentle shaking of his shoulder.
"You should eat something."
It was Gwen - still tired, still in the same dirty dress, still radiantly beautiful - holding out a plate laden with his favourite foods. He accepted it eagerly and started shovelling down food as a starving man might.
"Careful..." a weary voice piped up. "You'll get hiccups."
"Merlin!"
Arthur's joyful shout sent a spray of crumbs over Merlin's bedsheets, and the warlock wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"You know the last time I woke up after nearly dying, Gwen kissed me. This really doesn't compete," he complained.
"Kissed you?!" Arthur exclaimed indignantly. "When did this happen?!"
"Oh calm down. I've got no plans of stealing your betrothed."
Silence. Gwen looked from Arthur to Merlin and back again.
"Betrothed?"
Merlin paled. "Oh. Oh no. You mean you hadn't-?"
Arthur buried his face in one hand. "No, Merlin. I hadn't."
"But you said you were going to do it while I was gone!"
"Things kept getting in the way!"
"What things?!"
"I don't know, just things!"
"Ahem." Gwen interrupted pointedly, and the two men stopped their bickering at once. "Arthur?"
With trembling fingers, he produced the ring from his pocket and turned to face her. "This wasn't really how I imagined... but I..." He cleared his throat, awkwardly, and tried again. "Guinevere... will you marry me?"
She beamed. " Of course I will."
He placed the ring on her finger, nearly dropping it in the process his hands were shaking so much, and Merlin whispered a spell under his breath. All about the room fresh flowers bloomed, their bright lavender petals the exact hue of Gwen's dress.
"You really can't get anything done without me, can you?" the warlock asked cheekily, and was promptly smacked in the face by a spare pillow.
The engagement feast took place a few days later and it was not exactly what Arthur had envisioned. They had yet to remove the oak tree from the dining hall, which made for an... interesting set up, to say the least. Still, Arthur thought wryly to himself, no part of the proposal had gone to plan - why should this be any different?
"So, let me get this straight," Gwaine asked him as everyone took their seats. "Merlin proposed to Gwen for you?"
"I proposed. Merlin was just... there."
"Uh-huh." Gwaine didn't sound convinced. "Do you ever think you and Merlin might be a bit too codependent?"
"All the time," Arthur sighed, and went to the head of the table to make his speech.
"Thank you all for joining us," he announced to those assembled, a hand on Gwen's back. There were all the usual lords and nobility gathered, but those he truly cared about - his round table knights, Gaius, and Merlin - were seated toward the front. "I had grand plans for asking Guinevere to marry me, none of which quite panned out." He gestured toward the massive oak. "Life in Camelot does seem to have a way of surprising us."
The knights chuckled knowingly and Merlin blushed bright red. The warlock had, by now, learnt of all the bizarre things he had done whilst in the throes of fever and been accordingly embarrassed - something that amused Arthur no end.
"We cannot always account for the unexpected, but we can choose the right person to have by our side as we face life's challenges." Arthur turned to Gwen. "Guinevere, my love. You are intelligent, kind, steadfast in the face of danger, and you never let me be... well... a prat."
Another ripple of laughter at that sentiment.
"There is no one else I would rather have by my side in life. As my queen, as my wife, and as my friend." He raised his goblet. "To Guinevere."
"To Guinevere!"
The crowd drank in Gwen's honour and cheered as the couple embraced.
Merlin came up to Arthur and Gwen later in the night, once the food had been eaten and the wine drunk. He was back to full strength now, officially cleared by Gaius to return to his duties as Court Sorcerer, but looked somewhat sheepish as he approached.
"Congratulations. And um, sorry again. I really didn't mean to ruin the surprise."
"It's fine, Merlin," Gwen reassured him kindly. "I think we've all had quite enough surprises over the past few days."
"Speaking of which," Arthur added, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Now that you're feeling better, do you think you could set to work repairing my palace? It would be nice to have our dining hall back to normal by the time the wedding rolls round..."
