A Marriage that Started a Legend

by IJustShowedUp

Follows canon but with my own arranged marriage spin on it. What happens when Hunith makes a mistake and is forced on the run with her infant son? What happens when Camelot knights find her twenty years later? What happens when Arthur learns he's betrothed to a peasant boy? Will Merlin be able to stand among royalty? Will these two different boys survive each other? Review!

135. Chapter 136

This chapter is dedicated to Seiramallipop, who wanted to see the poison moving much faster because Merlin's body cannot fight it off properly because he hasn't been eating. I hope that they enjoy how I did this ;p

X

Arthur didn't know what he was supposed to think, after hiding himself away like some kind of cower in Merlin's bedroom. And he didn't know what to do-pressing his back firmly against the door and hearing it creak ominously as every grove carved into it poked uncomfortably at him, as if it was only a moment away from splintering in two and sending Arthur crashing back onto the other side-as he reached up to grab two large fistful sized chunks of hair. But the painful tugging didn't give him any kind of insight, or tell him what he should do to get around all of it.

It wasn't as if Arthur could snap his fingers and wipe away the last hour or two worth of memories, so he could go back to the ignorant man he had been…where everything in Arthur's world still made sense. But Arthur couldn't do that. And he could not pretend as if everything he had learned hadn't struck a cord in him, hadn't shaken him more than if he'd woken up only to find an assassin standing over his bedside. Arthur slowly slid down his body along the length of the door, letting out a pitiful groan when his bottom hit the floor. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and buried his face into his hands…

Arthur knew that this was pathetic of him, knew he was being a coward for running away like he had. Merlin was taking some of his last breaths right now, and Arthur had ran away and tried hiding from him. It wasn't Arthur's proudest moment, but he'd not had many proud moments since Merlin had shown up, had he? Beating him…scorning him…making plans to hurt him…not proper behavior for a prince. His father would have had Arthur flogged if he knew how badly things had gotten out of hand in the last few months. But for the first time in his life…Arthur did not give a damn what his father would think. Nor did he care of what his father would think if he knew Arthur had ran, instead of facing his problems head on. And destroying them like any trained soldier.

But this kind of battle was more delicate and difficult than any battle Arthur had ever faced in his life. The stakes were higher than what would happen if he lost a normal fight. And this was also a fight Arthur didn't know how he was supposed to win, it was not as if he could take a sword to Merlin and hope it would be enough to fix everything. Arthur Pendragon found he was at an utter loss as to what he was supposed to do next…he'd just known he couldn't stay in that room for a minute longer. Not if he has to listen to Gwen sobbing, Merlin's ragged breath, and Gaius steadfast disappoint…

Arthur forced himself to take one breath to ground himself into reality, and another second breath to steady himself before he started seriously thinking about what his next steps to facing a problem like this was. And then a third hot breath, full of great irritation when he realized he 'still' didn't have a plan of action. And then a fourth breath because why the hell not, it wasn't as if one could have too many breaths, right? Why, Merlin was not even getting enough breaths! So Arthur should probably try to take as many breaths as he could in order to make up for it.

Or maybe Arthur needed to stop allowing his emotions to get the best of him, and start thinking about this with every bit of the analytical training he'd endured over the years. Yes, Arthur thought as he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his shoulders to relax. This was something he knew…something that was easy for him to do…when all else failed, Arthur's training as a knight and future leader of this kingdom would always be there. First things first, Arthur thought as he breathed through his nose to try and stay relax-a soldier did not panic, a leader didn't spend all their time thinking about what they should've done instead, and a commander didn't waste precious time or resources on endeavors that would not bare fruit-was thinking about what it was he had learned today.

First…Merlin was a massive idiot. And a suicidal idiot, at that…for no man could willingly drink poison and not be stupid. But no, Arthur had already known that. And he knew it also wasn't true. He only liked calling Merlin an idiot because he was much more different than anybody he had ever met before. Willing to say no to a king just because he didn't like what he was trying to say or do. But Merlin was emotional, and combined with his brains…that wasn't always a good thing. Tonight seemed to be proof of that. Merlin had known exactly what he was doing and what he was giving up when he took that cup in hand. And that was proof that Merlin was suicidal…

But why was Merlin suicidal…

No.

That wasn't a question Arthur should ask again. He'd already learned the answer downstairs, and he didn't want to get stuck in an endless cycle of trying to convince himself none of it was true. A true leader knew when to accept the truth, rather than denying it until it spat in his face. But Merlin had already done that…by lifting the goblet into the air to give him a toast full of mock enjoyment. Merlin might as well have been saying 'fuck you' right to his face. And trying to pretend that hadn't been exactly what had happened would have been a disgrace not only to himself, but to Merlin as well.

Arthur had already disgraced himself enough for one lifetime…

But what else did he know about Merlin that he hadn't known of before…he needed to catalogue everything. Look at it from all angles, like a commander moving pieces around on a map to show where he wanted his men to be just before some big battle commences. Arthur could hardly prepare himself for the next shocking bit of news to hit him, if he couldn't handle what he already knew. One breath, two breaths, three breaths…and "Merlin" escaped his mouth as he breathed out for the fourth time. Arthur could already feel his muscles relaxing…thinking like this in order to get his thoughts under control stopped him from thinking about too much too fast…kept him calm.

Let's think…the second thing Arthur had learned about Merlin today, was that Gaius was his uncle. It was such a strange and odd concept, Arthur found it troubling to put the two together, but it was also true. It made sense, in an odd way. But he also knew he would have never considered the possibility of them being related, if it hadn't all but been spelt in his face. It was a thing he should have known…but maybe it was a good thing he hadn't known, Arthur reasoned to himself. If he had known that Gaius was Merlin's uncle, there was a very real chance that the prince would've spent more time trying to chat up Gaius, try to induct him into the family more officially. And most likely, he'd have ignored his actual husband more than he already had…he didn't want that. Because while most of what they'd done was bad…they did have some good memories…

He just couldn't think of any right now…

Arthur hissed under his breath, pressing the palm of his hand so deeply against his eye, he could see black spots starting to break out. He needed to move on, instead of realizing he could not think of 'one' memory Merlin might smile about. What was the next thing he had learned about Merlin…ah, yes. He knew there was something going on with his knights. But that would also be the 'only' thing he knew about that subject. He did not know what knights had done what, and he probably would not know until Merlin woke up-if Merlin woke up-and filled in all of the missing details. Since Gaius was absolutely no help, rather that be because he genuinely didn't know the details or wasn't willing to tell Arthur those details was irrelevant, with that. But Arthur didn't know enough to know if it was something that he seriously needed to be concerned about.

But perhaps that didn't matter either, since Arthur didn't care if it was only one knight who was doing a bit of light teasing to his consort that anybody could take. Arthur was feeling far too raw and protective at the moment. He was going to end what it was in a heartbeat. But he couldn't end anything if his consort didn't bloody well wake up and allow him to end things for him. Allow him to help him out after he'd struggled so much…

That was another thing Arthur had learned about his consort in such a short span of time…

Merlin was struggling.

And he'd been struggling even before they actually professed their undying love to each other in the form of a wedding…

That was a problem that should've been fixable…if Arthur had taken a moment to sit down and actually go over the basics of what to expect or what was going to happen now that the two of them were married, Arthur could have alleviated some of his fear. Arthur couldn't even use the excuse-I didn't know Merlin was scared, or that he would grow scared of 'Me' as a result of that-because that was exactly what it was. An excuse. And he should have seen this coming. Should have put steps in place to prevent things from getting as bad as they were. Maybe had he done that…

Merlin wouldn't be so scared of him.

He still couldn't believe he hadn't known until Gaius had told him…he should have bloody well seen it!

The signs were all there, now that Arthur was thinking back on it. All those times Merlin would go suspiciously quiet, instead of kicking up a fuss like Arthur had expected. All those times he wanted to leave, but Arthur would only drag him back and make him listen to more fussing. But…Merlin had never cried as far as Arthur was concerned. Not until today when Arthur's hit him. When Arthur had…fucking hell. It was no mystery why Merlin feared him.

Arthur had broken his arm…

Fractured his wrist…

And it was once again only an excuse if Arthur tried claiming he didn't realize he was holding him so tight. There was this odd sound coming from his mouth, and if Arthur didn't know any better, he would've said it was a sob. But that couldn't be right…princes didn't cry. They especially didn't cry over boys they had never wanted to be saddled with. But…were princes allowed to cry when they realized how epically they screwed up with their consort and husband? Surely there must be some kind of allowance for extreme situations…Arthur hissed under his breath again. And hit himself in the head with the palm of his hand several times, not sure what he was doing or how this was going to help.

But Arthur had failed…

And he needed to do something…

Needed to hurt himself as equally as he had hurt Merlin, both mentally and physically…

And it wasn't like Merlin was being a dramatic brat trying to do his best to stir up trouble. People who were only trying to act up and be dramatic didn't look at Arthur with dead eyes. Say a good 'fuck you'. And then drink poison. Merlin had did that for a single reason…to get away from Arthur. Because he was only a failure, unable to keep his own consort from hurting himself because Arthur had only brought him pain. Merlin was literally hurting himself before tonight's events, had drawn so much of his own blood that his wrist was a tangled mess of little scars and dried up flakes. And that was nobody's fault but Arthur's…

All of Arthur's carefully crafted plans were starting to unfold in front of his very eyes, slipping away from his fingers far faster than a handful of dust would have, as he came to the last thing he had learned today…the one he had been avoiding until now, when he realized there was nothing else he had learned. But…Arthur was sure there was more he didn't know. Was sure that there was more he-wanted, no-needed to know. More than any man needed water to carry on, or food to survive to the next of many nights…even if it hurt like hell. Arthur needed to know all the rest of what Merlin had been going through. Needed to be able to know how bad it was, and what he could do to make it a little easier…

Not going out of his way to hurt Merlin could be one step…

Fuck…

Here Arthur was, trying to ignore the final thing he had learned because of how much it hurt. But how badly had Arthur ended up hurting Merlin? Arthur could suffer a little pain, could live in only a fraction of whatever Merlin had been going through.

Even if he had to confront what Gaius had said…

About his mother.

Ygraine Pendragon had always been a mystery to Arthur, there was precious few things he actually knew about her. His father refused to talk about her, and some of his nursemaids had told him it was because his father had loved his mother so much, it had broken him when she died. Arthur didn't know how much of it was true-since none of his nursemaids had the chance to actually meet Ygraine Pendragon before her untimely death-as it was hard to imagine his hard father in love with anybody. But Arthur did have Gaius, who had indulged him once or twice as a child, when the curiosity had grown too much for him to not ask about her…and even then, it'd never been enough to sate his undying need to know the woman he would never meet.

But Gaius had painted Arthur a picture of a woman who shown herself to be unfathomably kind, a rare trait amongst the rough social classes that divided even nobles into the powerful noble and the lesser then's. A woman who wasn't afraid of anything set in front of her, willing to walk into a tourney that had gotten out of hand and stop the bloodshed without holding a weapon of her own. A woman who was gentle enough to have tamed a dragon…the dragon known as Uther Pendragon…into agreeing with her every step of the way. And being generous with all the love she held in her heart…

Arthur thought she was too good to be true…

And wasn't sure if Gaius had embellished a few details just to make her seem more interesting. But that was the description he had, and Arthur held onto it with more might than he would hold onto his sword when facing a deadly enemy. But thinking of that description now…Arthur found it next to impossible not to compare his mother with Merlin…

Merlin was unfathomably kind…when he wanted to be. He was friends with the servants, and that right there was a kindness no noble would be willing to give. Merlin also wasn't afraid of anything-except for him-but he had also walked himself into danger more times than Arthur could count. And walked out onto the other side of fire and brimstone without a scratch on him…until now. And maybe Merlin wasn't gentle…maybe there was a fire in him-one burned into nothing but flickers of ember at the moment, struggling to relight, but god Arthur hoped that this fire still burned somewhere within him-that his mother had lacked. But Merlin couldn't be identical to his mother in every way, that would've been weird. But…he quite wanted to see a version of that Merlin again.

One unwilling to back down from a fight…

One that needed Arthur to keep him safe because his smart mouth got them in trouble…

One that smiled cheekily, as if he had done nothing wrong and left Arthur to deal with the fallout…

Arthur would deserve it. And relish in it. And even tell people it was Merlin who had tamed the dragon that roared inside of his bloodstream, just as his mother had once tamed his father. But he would only allow it if Merlin woke up…

And maybe Arthur shouldn't want any of this. Maybe he should be dismissive of how his mother would feel about what he had done…she was a dead woman, after all. What did her opinions have to do to anything? But as soon as that thought was inside Arthur's head, the prince banished it almost immediately. If he didn't care about Ygraine's opinion…he wouldn't be hiding far away from everybody else just because Gaius had the nerve to bring her up. If Arthur didn't care about his mother…

It wouldn't hurt so much to think about her disappointment.

It wouldn't make it difficult for Arthur to breathe imagining how she would shake her head at him in disgust.

It wouldn't make Arthur want to bash his head into the door at knowing how much she would hate him.

Arthur hissed out a breath, and let his head drop back against the door behind him with a dull thud. He felt weary and all but defeated. What was he supposed to do now? Just stroll back down the stairs and act as if everything was normal? Act as if he knew exactly what they were supposed to do next? Arthur knew that was what Uther would do, fake it till you make it and all that jazz. But Arthur had no energy in his body to pretend it was all going to be okay. This wasn't some story his nursemaid used to tell him as a child, where happy endings were always a guaranteed-before his father had gotten rid of that one. As he wanted his son's bedtime stories to be more realistic, the kind of stories where anything could happen. Where bloodshed and death was just as likely to happen as returning home in victory, covered in the blood of the enemies. Real life had a huge habit of being different from the stories.

And in real life, tragedies happened.

But it was Arthur's job to prevent such tragedies.

And he hadn't been doing his job…Arthur stopped, sucking in a huge breath he didn't know he had been holding, noticing his consort's bedroom for the first time since he walked in.

"What the bloody hell have you done this time, Merlin." Arthur asked himself, voice raw even to his own ears as he placed his hand against the door to push himself up to his feet. He could have sworn his legs felt like jello, but Arthur pushed himself to move forward anyway. His eyes shot in every direction already committing each new scrap of trash to memory, glass breaking under his foot into millions and millions of different pieces. The prince had been so busy trying to keep himself calm, he could have almost forgotten the entire reason he was trying to force himself calm…since panicking never helped anything. But just maybe, Arthur had every right in the world to panic, whenever his consort showed this much level of…destruction. "You really are troubled, aren't you?"

Arthur mused this under his breath, placing his hand onto the edge of Merlin's footbed. And Arthur eyed the bedspread, as the sheets were in a crumbled heap across the floor…that was where Merlin slept every night this month. That was where his consort rested his head, and where he stretched his body out across the sheets as he prepared himself to wake up for a day already planned out ahead of him. Had Merlin also cried into a pillow-the very same pillow half hanging off his bed-until sleep claimed him? If Arthur had really screwed Merlin up as bad he did-and there was no denying that he had-then he imagined it was probably stressful for Merlin to sleep.

And what had Arthur been doing?

Rolling about in his silk sheets without a care in the world, other than a fleeting-obsessive-thought on what Merlin was doing right that moment. God…to think. If Arthur had been the one to visit Merlin, take all of five minutes out of his day to get here and see the boy…maybe he would've seen the results of what he'd been doing with his own eyes. Maybe Merlin would not already have one foot in the grave, if Arthur hadn't been a prideful fool. And decided searching for Merlin was a step too close to chasing after the boy, something Arthur detested the very thought of doing.

Arthur found himself sitting on the edge of Merlin's bed, and leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees, and his hands were interlocked under his chin. And he breathed in Merlin's room, keeping his discontentment contained. None of this was right…Arthur felt as if he had just stepped into a weird alternate mirror universe. Where everything was the same but extremely backwards in some. Arthur was usually the one that had anger issues, and went about destroying rooms to get that anger out. Merlin had some anger issues of his own, but as far as Arthur could tell, that had always been directed towards his own person. How many times had Merlin clawed at him or tried to jump him or made him bleed in some other manner…

Destroying a room seemed so out of character.

Or maybe it was exactly Merlin's character, because what did Arthur know about Merlin anymore?

Hell, maybe he hadn't really known anything about Merlin.

Arthur blinked, and something in the corner of his eye drew his attention, the flash of pale blue being a poor representation of Merlin's eyes. Butt Arthur still bent down and tugged out one of Merlin's faded neckerchief's from where it had gotten itself lodged between the nightstand and the metal frame of the bed that creaked ominously at Arthur's movement. He straightened up, unfolding the neckerchief until it was stretched out across his lap. And Arthur's eyes wavered, the blue fabric innocently waiting for the owner that might never return. It made Arthur remember the red one he kept hidden inside his beside table…and the prince clenched the blue cloth in his hand until he was able to feel the fibers tearing.

Arthur hunched over the cloth, feeling as if he had fire buried in his lungs, each ragged breath tasing like ash, as he forced his fingers to loosen before he could ruin one of the few things Merlin had. God, Arthur had been so vindictive when he made the decision to keep Merlin's red one with him, instead of just returning it like he should have in the first place. Merlin'd been so mad at him when they both thought Arthur had lost it after Merlin had given it to him as a favor. Maybe things would have gotten better if Arthur had just handed it over the second his manservant produced it from the laundry. Or maybe he might be putting too much faith on a simple cloth…

A rag couldn't possibly make up for half of the things Arthur'd done to Merlin…or half of the things he had been planning on doing…

Would Arthur have even noticed Merlin's fractured wrist, would he have bothered questioning Merlin about it, as he was taking pleasure in securing Merlin with his new chains. Or was it only one more thing Arthur would've brushed off to the side in favor of doing much more pleasurable activities. He knew he wanted to say he wouldn't have ignored it…even if only because Arthur would've wanted to know who had marked him. But everything was so fucked up right now…and Arthur honestly didn't know if he would've cared enough to stop what they were doing until it was healed. Or if he would've kept going anyway and possibly do irreparable damage to it…

Arthur breathed out raggedly again, and though he had never folded a piece of clothing before in his life-why would a prince need to learn to fold laundry when he had his servant to do the boring parts of life's necessities-he took great care with doing it now. It was awfully misshapen by the time he was done, and probably looked better if it had been rolled into a ball and just thrown off in the dirt somewhere, but…Merlin deserved just a bit of tenderness right now. And if Arthur wasn't able to bring himself to do it to Merlin's person…then his stuff was the next best thing. It was the only connection he had to Merlin right now. The only thing that could give him a little glimpse into the consort's mind. A little peek at what was going on behind the curtains when Arthur had been too busy plotting his designs…

Arthur placed the neckerchief on the edge of Merlin's bedside table…maybe Merlin would see it when-if-he returned. And the prince went to move away when he stopped, something having caught his eye once again. Frowning, Arthur slid forward till he was almost off the bed, pushing the neckerchief out of his way to get a better look. MERLIN was carved into the surface of his bedside table, all jagged letters and down on the bottom, as if Merlin was trying to hide what he had done to deface the table he had been given. And Arthur leaned forward, this fascinated glint shining in his eye as he twisted his head into an unnatural angle to look at it better.

Arthur started with the M, at first. Tracing the letters with the same gentleness one would use when tending to the newborn infant in their arms. Mouthing the name along with his fingers, feeling the deep gouges beneath him. And Arthur could almost imagine his consort sitting in the same spot he was now-and it was possible his eyes would be red from all the crying Arthur'd forced him to endure-in the dead of night. And deciding to say 'fuck you', in the only way Merlin could. By scratching his name into something-had he found a knife or had he simply used the much cruder quill-that wouldn't be so easily removed. And this was almost enough to make Arthur smirk…it was such a Merlin thing to do. Everything in this room could be taken out and get tossed if Merlin no longer needed his clothes and belongings…but not many people would bother to move the furniture itself out.

Maybe Merlin was trying to immortalize his presence, forcing the creation of those letters until the early morning light, with nothing other than a dim lamp to light his way.

But then Arthur's smirk dropped in an instant when he realized 'why' Merlin would try to immortalize himself. Merlin had been hurting himself, it wasn't too far a stretch to think his consort had figured his days were numbered. He could have done this in a last ditch effort to be remembered. As a way to make sure people knew he was here…make sure he was never forgotten as the days wore on. But how was Merlin supposed to know he was a character that was impossible to forget. It wasn't like he had done anything to make sure Merlin knew that…

And now Arthur could feel his stomach churning, jerking away from those letters as if he had touched something sacred and something that should have never been disturbed. It suddenly felt less like a spiteful and willful boy trying this one last ditch attempt to be known. And much more like a desperate attempt to be recognized. This entire room was starting to feel much of the same…as if Arthur was standing inside of a tomb that had been locked away for centuries until people discovered it. And ruined what was inside with their greedy and unworthy hands, taking anything they wanted without second thought for who they once belonged too.

Arthur jolted himself up off the bed, his attempts with trying to get closer to Merlin only seemed to backfire. And he felt even further away than he had started…Arthur should not have ever came up here. There was no reason to come up here and play around with the few belonging's that had survived Merlin and his little massacre. He could have easily stepped out into the hall and taken his breather out there, still close enough to hear if Merlin made any new sounds of distress. But right now, it felt very much like the walls had eyes boring down into it…warning him that he was doing wrong.

Arthur was being selfish to try and get a glimpse into Merlin's head this way. He should wait until Merlin was better-was this still a foolish hope Arthur was clinging onto?-and seek proper permission before digging around in his stuff. Or would that be weird…Arthur had certainly never spent his days wondering all about the possessions one kept with them. Or what items were considered their most precious. Or what they spent their time handling the most…Arthur should leave now. And pretend he'd never disturbed a place that felt as if Merlin's ghost was trying to haunt him through every crevice, every article of clothing on the floor, every scrap of paper ripped to shreds…and even the glass shards on the floor felt as if Merlin was there.

Staring at him with wounded eyes.

Demanding to know why Arthur cared when he never cared to know before…

And Arthur wanted to scream back that he didn't care. But this would have been a lie and nothing more than a hugely pathetic attempt of trying to save face. And Arthur was already tired of lying to himself…tired of pretending that every little thing done by his consort wasn't something endlessly fascinating. Or how every little thing was inviting Arthur to ask questions to try and fathom out his consort for once. But not here…Arthur couldn't ask his questions in this tomb as if it would give him an answer he sought.

Maybe Arthur only wanted to hear that everything hadn't been nearly as bad as Gaius and Gwen had made it out to be…

Something that would assuage his own forming guilt…

Something that would return him back to the days-had his life really changed so much in an hour?-where he could sit back to spend his afternoons wondering what Merlin would look like if he was chained to the foot of Arthur's desk…

But even those images that had once brought Arthur so much warmth and giddiness, seemed tainted with the sudden flow of images involving scarred up arms and broken bones…

Arthur took a step away from the bed, but wasn't surprised as he stepped on something else, there was just too much clutter everywhere for him to not step on at least ten things if he tried making it to the door. But this object had a far different sound then the crunching of glass did, just odd enough for Arthur to stop long enough and look down. And he instantly recognized the small chest, the one he had spent so much time worrying himself to death about getting fixed up, only for Merlin to snub his nose up at it in disgust.

Maybe that had been another sign that things were already so wrong between them that Arthur had ignored in favor of what he wanted. And the prince bent down and flipped the chest so it was sitting straight. The carefully painted lotus flower looked all scruffed up, both from being knocked onto the ground and from Arthur's shoe…and when he flipped open the lid, it was to see the stuff inside virtually intact. But it looked as if it had not been touched since Arthur had given it to him, this thin layer of dust coating everything inside. Not even the Arthur doll he had given Merlin so much crap for when he first discovered it-he'd thought it had been witchcraft at first-had been touched.

And for some reason, that struck a cord in him…

"I had one fucking job. Just one." Arthur hissed underneath his breath as he withdrew his fingers, noticing that the little baggy of pins Merlin was supposed to be using to stab that dolly was also untouched. The whole point of allowing Merlin to keep all those items when he'd been receiving replacements for all the ones he'd broken, was so Merlin could stab the Arthur doll and not him, whenever he wanted. But it appeared as if Merlin had not bothered continuing the trend he had started. "And I could not even do that right. Tell me, Merlin…where did things begin to go so wrong between us…"

Arthur's hand was practically trembling, feeling the ghost of Merlin's presence caressing his entire body, the hair thick on his arms starting to stand up on end…but Arthur didn't care to back away like he would have moment's before. It was almost better to have Merlin's presence, then to not have him around at all…he deserved to have Merlin haunting him for failing him and his expectations so epically. His one fucking job-to keep Merlin safe-had literally been created within blood and chaos as he stole Valiant's life for trying to take Merlin from him…and then he'd left Merlin up to his own devices.

This was almost enough for Arthur to want to start destroying whatever Merlin hadn't gotten to…maybe start kicking at the leg of the bed until the wood splintered and broke. Maybe rip the sheets until they were nothing more than dishrags, not big enough to cover even an infant. Maybe even smash up the box until there was nothing left but a pile of wood to remind Arthur of how much of a screw up he was. But it wouldn't have solved anything, and the relief he would've gotten was only temporary and lasted only as long as there was stuff to destroy.

Merlin didn't have nearly enough stuff to keep him occupied for very long…

And just like the neckerchief, Arthur's fingers were far gentler than he thought they had every right to be, when he closed up the lid on the chest. Keeping its occupants safe for the day his consort decided he wanted to open it back up…but it seemed so wrong to leave this chest amongst all the chaos. It looked too delicate to be anywhere that was so destructive, but the blond found he also couldn't take it with him. It had been a gift to his consort…the only gift Arthur had ever given him that his consort had ever accepted, and that meant something.

Even if Merlin had bartered with several different deals just to take the damn thing…

Whips and chains…chains and whips…such things would have never been meant to grace Merlin's fair skin. The boy was just as delicate as this box was, with all of his nips and dents being carefully hidden away as he dressed up just to please him for the night…who would have thought Merlin would have had so much in common with a simple chest. This was kind of stupid of Arthur to not see before. Arthur had always assumed-when taking Merlin to his room and starting their sessions together-he would just know instinctively when too much was too much for Merlin to take. But he wouldn't have known, would he? He'd just keep going until Merlin's back was in tattered strips of skin and meat from his whip…but how would Arthur have known he needed to stop…

When he couldn't even stop himself from completely changing up this chest to fit his own royal standards…

It was no wonder Merlin had hated it so much.

And Arthur had been practically doing the same thing to Merlin on a much larger scale…

…

…

…

This was too much introspection for Arthur to go through in a single day…

…

…

…

But still…it didn't stop…

…

…

…

His head pounded as he thought of the last thing he had said to Merlin. Mocking him, calling him out as a fool, and trying to send him to his room as if he were a child. But if his Merlin had actually went, it would have been Arthur lying on that cot and waiting for death to take his soul. Merlin probably would have been pleased about that, and Arthur couldn't even accuse him of treason. There was no blame Arthur could try and pin down to Merlin's feet as he usually did. Fuck, he owned Merlin a debt for his life. And not only for this one moment, but for every one of the moments he'd gotten himself involved in something that shouldn't have been his concern.

And Arthur had been doing a poor job at paying him back.

…

…

…

It was there, as the witching hour started passing them by as the skies grew darker and darker outside, that Arthur had the epiphany that he'd carry with him for the rest of his life. With his chest ripping open until the guilt and the sorrow and only half the pain he was sure Merlin had felt, came pouring out of him. Strong enough to leave his entire body shaking across the poorly crafted peasant floor..

It was all his fault.

This was all his fault.

Arthur had taken Merlin for granted. And he had hurt him and he had abused him and he had done everything Merlin always accused him of. And he had been too proud and too ignorant to have realized that himself. It had taken Merlin trying to kill himself just to get away from Arthur, for that realization to hit him stronger than if he had been hit with a thousand lightning bolts.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault.

It was all his fault…

And Arthur needed to do something to fix it.

…

…

…

Arthur Pendragon made his way down the rickety old stairs one at a time, vaguely wondering if he should hire some of the castle construction workers to come and have them fixed. His consort would probably be very weak when he woke up-as the prince refused to believe the end of their story happened with such tragedy-and would need something sturdy to walk up to his room. It wouldn't do for Merlin to fall through the railing so soon after starting to recover…but nobody looked up when the prince finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Arthur noticed Gwen was still working diligently on Merlin, already doing more for Merlin than Arthur had ever done in his life, wiping away his newest layer of sweat from his forehead. And Gaius was back at his book, studying one of the pages with this intense focus as he read through it carefully.

Arthur ventured further into the room, lingering his eyes onto Merlin's still form when nobody acknowledged him. Usually, he had people vying for his attention, trying to get Arthur to shed a bit of his princely charm onto them. But for once, Arthur felt as if he would like to fade into mediocrity. To be nothing more than a dull decorative piece hanging on somebody's wall that nobody cared for or remembered where or why they got him in the first place. But Arthur couldn't allow himself to fade to the background, not when he noticed the way Merlin's breathing had turned less ragged. He was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing. It could possibly mean that Merlin's body couldn't keep up with the strain he was undergoing.

"You were right about me." Arthur said in a surprisingly solemn tone, never taking his eyes away from his consort as Gaius and Gwen looked up from what they were doing. He was sure they were surprised, no Royal would ever dare admit they had been wrong about something. But Arthur's responsibilities were vast more than the average Royal, and Arthur was completely done at this point. Done with being ignorant to the problems his boy had been facing all this time-he'd probably never know exactly how long he had stayed in Merlin's room, body shaking until he came to that solid conclusion and decided to stick to it-that he knew he had the power to fix. A true Royal, Arthur was coming to realize, knew when mistakes had been made and when they needed to be corrected. And a husband…a husband knew how to put aside his own feelings to help the one entrusted into his care and safekeeping. Nothing else mattered…not Merlin or his whoring ways, not the trouble brewing between Camelot's Red and Mercia's Blue, or the fact that war could very well be rising on the horizon. Nothing but doing what was necessary to keep Merlin alive. "I know that I haven't been here for him. And I do know I have made things infinitely more worse than they could have been. I know I have brought dishonor to your family, and I have dishonored Merlin most of all. But I hope, if I can be given a chance, that I could make changes and correct what should have been corrected long ago."

Arthur didn't exactly know how he was going to do that, but he knew he had to try. Even when all of this was over and Merlin's health had been returned…things couldn't return back to what they once were. Too much had happened since Merlin had fell into unconsciousness, but he knew when he saw Gaius glaring at him that he hadn't even started making amends for what he had done to them. And Arthur knew that Merlin was only going to be a harder nut to crack…wallowing to himself about all he'd done wasn't going to change things. Besides, nothing that was worth doing ever came easy. And Arthur was the one that had made things hard in the first place. It was only right that he be the one responsible for pulling Merlin out of the dark.

And speaking of pulling Merlin out of the dark, Arthur strode across the room until he reached the table Gaius was working at, "Gaius, I noticed that you have started looking through your books again." He said simply, scanning the page the physician had stopped on. There was the etching of a petal drawn in one of the corners of the pages, shaded in a very light pink. And as far as Arthur could tell-though he knew he would have thought the same if it had been any pink flower-it looked identical with the petal Gaius had pulled out of Merlin's cup. "Is this the petal that's caused Merlin's sickness? This-" Arthur tilted his head a little so that he could read the title at the top of the page that announced what flower the petal had came from. "Mortaeus flower?"

Arthur pointed at the picture of the flower, and looked up to make sure he had pronounced the odd word correctly. He had never heard of the mortaeus flower before in his life and it was strange to think a little pink flower could have the power to kill and destroy lives. But Gaius didn't answer him at first, lips thin and going white. Arthur's shoulders sagged forward as he was withdrawing his finger away from the book…he knew he most likely sounded as if he didn't care about Merlin. Not because of his words when he had admitted his wrongdoings, but most likely because of how cold he had sounded when he said them in the first place. Arthur had never been able to handle anyone of his emotions very well and projecting the air of a prince was really the only thing he knew how to do.

Bitterly, Arthur knew that Merlin would've been able to handle the situation a lot more favorably if things were reversed. The other boy was an emotional man, but he'd also always gotten results. It was moments like this, where he continued to think about how badly he was messing this up-where Gaius thought Arthur asking for a simple update on his search for the flower was some kind of trick-that he wished he could emulate that kind of sincereness Merlin could muster up so well. But Arthur knew he would never be able to do it the same way…which was why Arthur needed Merlin now more than ever. A desperation clawing somewhere in the center of his chest, a hole that was empty and hollow but had once been filled with all the things that annoyed him about Merlin forming deeper and darker then any cavernous cave. Arthur needed Merlin to do the emotional bits that Arthur didn't know how to do. Gaius wouldn't have an issue with telling Merlin what he had discovered…but that may be because Merlin was Gaius' BLOODY nephew…

He was definitely gonna kill him for not telling him.

Or wrap his in the warmest blanket he could find and explain a bit more gently how that was a bit of knowledge he would have liked to know…

"…Yes. I've done my research and you can tell from this very soft slope in the petal that it's one and the same. It came from the mortaeus flower." Gaius finally said in the gruffest tone the prince had ever heard him speak in. But it still made the blond jerk his dejected-what right did he have to be dejected, when he had made Merlin suicidal-head back up. Gaius was looking irritable at him, but Arthur didn't care. They had a name for the plant, even if Arthur couldn't see anything about the 'slope of the flower' that matched. But he would trust Gaius' words with that one…it meant they were one step closer to fixing Merlin all up. The hope filling up his chest was almost immediately gone when the nerves came…what would he say or do with the boy once he had woken up? What could he say to someone he had seen trying to die…Arthur shook his head violently to get those thoughts out of mind. One problem at a time…wake him up and then deal with how things should go moving forward. "Now, my book here says that someone poisoned by this flower can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same type of flower. It can only be found in the caves that run deep under the Forest of Balor. The flower only grows on the roots of their tree…the Mortaeus tree."

Arthur hissed in a breath through the gap between his teeth, it was both great news and horrific news. It was great because it was an answer…something they could get to without any great difficulties. The Balor Forests were only a day's ride on a horse from Camelot, Arthur had traveled through far too many times when his father would take him on this tour around the entire kingdom when he was younger, a prince needed to know the lay of his land and all the landmarks that resided inside of their boarders, after all. Arthur still went out there occasionally if he could pull together a hunting party and wanted to disappear to the woods for a week. Arthur knew exactly where there was a cluster of caves in that forest, though he had never explored it before. By the time Arthur had found them, he'd already long grown his 'let's explore every cave and lake and forest I come across' phase. A prince should be more dignified than allowing himself the simple pleasures of exploring new territory…

Maybe Merlin would want to explore it together someday. And Arthur could regale him with stories of how Arthur had raced into that cave with nothing but a sword to arm himself against any cave dwellers, and how he had risked body and limb to get that flower for him. Merlin probably wouldn't be impressed but it would at least give Arthur a few days to study Merlin without the suffocating pressures of the court watching them. See the boy in a more neutral atmosphere, and what he would do if he was away from Camelot's inner city…but that only brought his attention to the 'bad' part of Gaius' news. This flower that they needed was a day's ride away…all this time, Arthur had been under the assumption that the cure was something Gaius was able to whip up with ingredients he already had.

But that couldn't have been further from the truth…somebody would need to travel to the caves to retrieve this flower. And it was a pretty good bet that Arthur would have to be a member of this group of men sent on this mission. He couldn't sit here for the next two days-which was how long it would take to get the flower and then return-and pace around like some anxious mess while waiting to hear the bells going off to signal them all returning. But that also meant he would have to go…Arthur had to wonder if he could go and not know rather or not Merlin was still alive. Would Merlin be able to survive two-or even possibly three days if some trouble occurred-without the antidote given to him? Arthur could hardly imagine rushing back here with the flowers clutched in his hands only to find out Merlin had ended up perishing hours before…

In fact, the thought was so horrific, Arthur could feel his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. As if the blood flowing rich in his veins was trying to freeze itself from the inside out. Cutting off blood flow to Arthur's brain…fucking hell. Arthur leaving his consort's side right now-he knew he would be constant with a never ending plague of wondering rather or not Merlin's health had worsen-was practically unacceptable. Paranoia seemed to roar in the far reaches of Arthur's mind, where anything could happen to Merlin while Arthur was gone. The poison wouldn't be the only threat coming for Merlin's life…Arthur was sure by now, his father had ordered the knights to round up every one of Mercia's to take them to the dungeons. Not everybody had been in the chambers where the events had struck. There was an uncomfortable amount of servants who were seeing to their other duties…any one of them could escape detection and try to make a move against Merlin. Gaius and Gwen were hardly a good form of protection…even if Arthur was sure they'd try to protect Merlin, they weren't soldiers…

But he needed to go.

Getting Merlin's antidote was more important than a million and one possible 'what if's'.

Besides, imagining how pissed off Arthur was going to be if it proved too dangerous and his men sent after it decided to just come back without it. That would have been two days wasted, and if Merlin was still alive, another two days where Arthur had to do the trip himself. It was better to get it right the first time, then leave it in the hands of people who did not feel the same desperate need to get this damn flower like Arthur did.

"What about these creatures? What can you tell me about the beasts. Their strengths, weaknesses…anything you may know about them can be a big help." Arthur said immediately, as he pointed to the next page in the book. It was also a description of the Mortaeus plant, but this page also had a sketch of a big and fearsome looking beast. It honestly looked like some kind of prehistoric monster, bigger than Arthur was tall if if the little diagram to the side of it held any truth to it. But Arthur wasn't scared of it, he had faced bigger and more fearsome beasts the that. And it didn't have a will to survive that was stronger than Arthur's will to return. "It doesn't look particularly friendly."

Which was probably more of an understatement than anything else, but a beast was actually a good sign, as far as Arthur was concerned. A flower was something he could get his hands on, and a beast was something he could slay. At least he would be doing something more than pacing around here, being on this paranoid lookout for any possible threats, and twiddling about with his thumbs until something actually happened. There was only so many times he could glance over at the goblet that had started all of this-sitting on the edge of Gaius' desk-before the urge to throw it out overpowered him. But he couldn't because what if he did and Gaius needed it for something later…though destroying something that had caused Merlin great pain would be high on his to-do list after all of this was over.

It wasn't as if he could destroy himself for what he had done to the boy, but the cup…that had some distinct possibilities…

"It's called a cockatrice, and I've never seen one before. It isn't something usually found this fast west. So the only things I do know comes from this book." Gaius said grimly, waving a hand down to the opened pages. "And basically, this creature is the one that guards the forest. But its venom is potent. One single drop would mean certain death. There have been very few who have crossed the mountains of isgaard in search of the flower Mortaeus have made it back alive. Even fewer without bearing some kind of serious injury that caused death later on." Gaius read from the book, before lifting his head to give Arthur this stern glare. "Why do you want to know what the creature is? It is hardly something our esteemed prince will have to worry for in any capacity."

Gaius said all of this very smoothly, and anybody else would've thought it was their royal physician showing their prince all the proper respect his station deserved. But considering Gaius not once, in his entire life, had ever referred to Arthur as being an 'esteemed prince', he knew instantly that Gaius was clearly expecting for Arthur to abandon Merlin in his greatest hour of need. And make Gaius and Gwen watch as Merlin faded away, with neither of them being able to get the flower themselves or order one of the knights to retrieve it without the permission of the prince or king. It should have been shocking to realize that the physician thought Arthur could be so cruel as to let a man die-a man that had saved him-but he hadn't given them a real reason to think he wouldn't turn around and leave the second he realized what an inconvenience caring for Merlin was.

But it wasn't…

An inconvenience, that was.

Arthur was sure it was an inconvenience for Merlin to go out of his way to inform him about Valiant's plans to kill him off when they fought. And he was sure it was an inconvenience for him to put himself in danger to find out what was causing the city its plague. And he was sure it was a waste of Merlin's time to be wasting away right now, sweating himself to death behind him, in his little cot. Arthur could hardly look at him now…not with the guilt constantly trying to flay him open like his whips would've once-in another lifetime, perhaps. If Arthur had never discovered the secrets Merlin had kept from him-done across the skin of Merlin's back.

"Isn't it obvious, Gaius. I need to know these things and what to avoid since I'm going out there. I'm getting that flower and I'm bringing it back here for Merlin." Arthur declared boldly, as the declaration settled in his body and relaxed his bones. The prince had surety firmly in his eyes, daring to look Gaius in the eye to try and talk him out of this. He wouldn't be…not for any thing in the world. Unless there was something in here able to wake Merlin up right now…then Arthur was going. With a small and quick group of elite fighters, he was sure he could remove the plant from the cave and be back here in record time. "I can use the exercise anyway. Facing off against that beast sounds almost like a good time."

And in the back of Arthur's mind, he could hear this voice that sounded suspiciously like Merlin's-the ghost of a whisper or a echo of a fading heartbeat that should've matched paces with his own-telling him he was stupid for doing this. But maybe he was a little stupid. And maybe stupidity was a good thing right now, if only for the opportunity to get ghost Merlin to eat away his own words. Arthur would go. And he would return. And his consort would wake up. And then everything could be…it could not be back to normal…but Arthur would be able to find them a brand new normal to live by. Hell, Merlin would be so happy he saved his life this time, it might not even be all that hard to try convincing him that Arthur was ready to talk a few things out.

To at least give Arthur peace of mind that Merlin wouldn't start cutting himself again the second he left him alone…

"Arthur, you don't have to do this. I don't think you realize just how dangerous a quest like this is. I doubt you want to return after you have been practically ripped apart by this beast." The physician said in a bored and tired tone, waving his hand at the book below him to indicate the sketch of the beast. Even in the drawing there was a glisten of poison shining dangerously as it hung off the edge of its sharp fang. "I am sure your father will not be pleased if you are disfigured by this beast. And there's no chance it's going to let you pass once it knows you are right there. It's too…it's too dangerous."

Gaius bowed his head down, his hand clenching into a fist on top of his book…he had no faith in Arthur returning once the prince left these chambers. But looking at him now…looking at how weary the old man seemed to be, as if he had somehow aged at least a decade between Arthur disappearing up those stairs and coming back, as if he was already preparing to say a hearty goodbye to Merlin as the hope escaped him…the prince found he was more determined than ever to prove him wrong. Merlin wasn't going to die today. Nor was he going to die any other day…the familiar thrall of possessiveness grew heavy in his veins. It would be something he would need to carry inside of him during the journey into the woods…if anything would kill off Merlin, it was going to be him.

Nobody or nothing-not even poison-was going to take Merlin's life out of his hands. Merlin's life was his, and he decided what to do with it. And maybe he would need to rethink some of that later on. But now…it was the perfect motivator to get Arthur on the move.

"Alright, tell me this. If I don't get the antidote, then what will happen to Merlin?" Arthur asked him roughly, daring with his eyes alone, for Gaius to tell him what they already knew. This was cruel, making an old man relive the traumatic idea of his nephew dying right in front of his eyes, but if Gaius thought he was cruel, then Arthur was going to be cruel. If only to force his family's physician into the harsh reality of what was going to happen if he didn't put his trust in Arthur now. "Considering he's been poison, I'm going to take a gander and say he won't just get better on his own. A human body can't fight what has been created to kill it. Merlin will die, try telling me that he will not."

It was funny, Arthur thought in a non-humorous way, when the physician bowed his head even deeper. It wasn't all that long ago, that Arthur had been grateful for Gaius' presence in his consort's life. He used to think it was nice to know the other man was able to keep an eye on Merlin for him, content and positive to know Gaius would come to him the very second that something happened. Freeing up Arthur's time so it was one less thing he had to do himself. But now everything was turned upside down. And Arthur could recognize now that he was oh so very wrong about that. He should have never put a burden like it on Gaius' shoulders. Maybe Gaius felt he held some kind of obligation to look after Merlin because they were family, but it had always been Arthur's responsibility to look after him. Arthur needed to remember that for when the boy woke up…

"The Morraus flower induces a very slow and painful death, it causes heat flashes as the body tries to boil itself directly from the inside out. Eventually it becomes too much and the organs will start to shut down one by one, until Merlin has nothing left to keep going." Gaius growled, and with each word he said, the prince felt himself going a bit paler. He had been trying to help Gaius see he needed Arthur if he wanted Merlin to survive, but it felt as if Arthur had been the one left in shock. Gaius' horrid description had painted Arthur a very ugly picture, and behind him he could hear a sudden exhale of breath from Merlin-as if he too was also listening to them-before he went still again. "I believe he will hold out for four…maybe five days if we're lucky before he submits to the poison. But no. He won't just be able to 'heal on his own.' Eventually, this poison is going to kill him off. And the only person I am going to blame when that finally happens is you."

Arthur nearly flinched at the hostility and venom coming from the other physician. But Gaius' intense hatred of him seemed so unimportant now in light of what else he had already come to learn…five days. Merlin had five days to live through this…it felt too close to risk taking his time but it also felt as if it was a lucky break. Five days…Arthur could make it through the trees and back in two…and he wouldn't have to worry so much if the time wore on because of some unfavorable emergency. But he still didn't want to leave Merlin in pain for that many days…he'll hurry and get back as fast as he could. He wouldn't be taking any chances with Merlin's life on the line. Everything needed to be kept calculated as Arthur kept an eye on how much time he felt passing him by. He refused to allow time to slip through his fingers as it usually did when Merlin was involved…

"The only thing I'm trying to figure out is why the effects seem to be happening so fast. This type of poison will usually take a few hours before the body starts being affected." Gaius mused to himself, looking over a passage in his book, as he reread the information there. Arthur went stiff, his heart skipped a beat as he took that in. Already, the wild questions started filling up his head at a pace faster than he could keep up with. How bad did this mean for Merlin, if the poison was acting faster. Did Arthur still have five days, or did that mean his time had got put into a grinder and shorten in half. Why were they standing around as if they were a bunch of chumps, if not even Gaius could know of what Merlin's body was enduring… "He should've been still walking around by this point. It doesn't many any sense that it took root strong enough for him to collapse mere minutes after ingesting it."

Gaius trailed off, thinking over the possible reasons for why it could be happening so fast now, and Arthur could hear Gwen behind him dipping her cloth back into the water bucket to get Merlin's body temperature down. Because Merlin was boiling from the inside out…if Arthur had the means to do it, he would have gotten his hands on some ice and dropped them all down Merlin's shirt and pants, allowing for it to melt against the burn of his skin. Rub a few pieces along his neck where he figured a lot of the sweat would've accumulated…maybe slide one of the smaller pieces against Merlin's lips, watch them open up in his unconscious state against the pressure. Allowing for Arthur to watch the ice melt to moisten his lips, the water slipping down his throat to helpfully cool him off on the insides. But that was an impossible measure for Arthur to take, and he could feel an unsettling, jittery nervousness trying to overtake him. He was a prince…he wasn't allowed to get nervous, or at least he was not allowed to show it so obviously…

But fuck it!

Why was Gaius taking so damn long coming up with a reason as for why Merlin wasn't taking to the poison like somebody else would've done. Was Merlin having some kind of reaction to it…was there something he was allergic to that made all of it so much worse? Was Merlin allergic to anything…it felt like the kind of medical history Arthur-as a husband-should know. The kind of thing Arthur would want to have banned from being in close proximity of his consort-banned from the kitchens if the allergy was some kind of food relation-if that was the case.

It felt as if there was an empty space in Arthur's head, where he was suddenly desperate to know if there was something his consort could suffer from that Arthur wouldn't think a second about towards his own health. And if there was, then he would need to keep it away from Merlin! Even if he had to go through the entire kingdom himself to raze it from existence-or at least from anywhere Merlin might wonder off too.

"Gaius, do you think this poison is growing worse because his eating habits have been so bad as of late? Is it something that could be effecting him now?" Gwen called out from where she was continuing to tend to Merlin, revealing that she had been following along and listening this entire time. Her eyes looked so red, as one would when they spent a long time crying, and there was an unmistakable waver in her voice, but she looked remarkably composed compared to the last time Arthur's saw her…when she had been trying to stab him through his chest with nothing but her fists. "I know that some potions you give to people to help them need to be taken after they have eaten or they'll get sick. So is this something similar? The opposite happening…?"

Gwen's voice trailed off, a deep crease forming in the center of her brows, but Arthur was left confused, and his brows formed together in the center of his forehead. What was Gwen talking about…what was so bad about Merlin's eating habits? Granted the boy didn't know the difference between a soup spoon and a desert spoon, but that was something he would be willing to work on. Maybe that could be one of the activities they did so Arthur would have an excuse to be near him, and make sure he hadn't fallen back into his old habits (cough cough-cutting his wrists-cough cough). Arthur could surely spare just one of his afternoon's teaching Merlin a few things like he should've did in the beginning…but that hardly seemed to matter right now. Just because Merlin didn't have the manners of a proper man raised in society shouldn't be something that affected him and the poison…but Gaius made a deep humming sound under his breath, looking as if he was considering what Gwen was telling him.

"Perhaps your theory does have some merit to it, Gwen. That's wholly possible…with his weak state, I can't imagine any other reason for the fast progression of the poison." Gaius decided, and Arthur felt as if he was missing something vital. Perhaps it was something else that would make his head spin until he lost his dinner all over Gaius' books. "Since Merlin hasn't eaten any strong meals for quite some time, it's quite possible that all the poison is the 'only thing' in his stomach. Food would've soaked it up and made it move slower. But without that obstacle in the way, it's working its far faster than it should be."

There was the pause of a heartbeat in the room, where Arthur stopped and took this in. Gaius had been sorely talking to the other girl and Arthur may as well have not been in the room at all, but that didn't mean Arthur wasn't insanely focused on a single scrap of news he could hear pertaining to Merlin and his overall health. But there was several things about what Gaius had said that didn't make sense, though Gwen seemed to have a clear understanding. Because she solemnly nodded her head and blinked back a fresh stinging of tears in her eyes and went back to mopping up Merlin's forehead as if it was made of the gentlest of glass. Arthur pursed his lips sharply, feeling as if he was being deliberately left out of the conversation. And being put out by Gaius and Gwen clearly knowing more about Merlin than he did.

"I don't understand what you mean by he hasn't been eating a meal? He has access to plenty of food so it's not like he's one of the peasants starving in the middle of nowhere." Arthur said in a loud tone, designed to get the attention back onto himself and bordering on just plain rude. And considering Arthur knew Merlin was being fed daily by the castle kitchen's, there wasn't any excuse as for why they thought Arthur wasn't providing his consort with enough food. "And besides, we did just have a big dinner right now. I don't know if you noticed, but the table was not exactly wanting for food. So there is clearly another reason for why Merlin is being affected so strongly. And it has nothing to do with food-"

Arthur cut himself off abruptly when he noticed the harsh and angered glare that Gaius was shooting his way, causing him to clamp his mouth shut, absolutely baffled. Sure, maybe he had sounded a bit like an arse, but this was also Merlin all of them were talking about. The boy with the big mouth…even if he had stopped arguing with Arthur so much because of all this other stuff that had been going on, surely Merlin would've bothered to mention if he wasn't being fed enough food and was going hungry. Arthur could've informed the kitchens and made sure he was sent extra bits of food. But even when Arthur glanced over to Gwen, the other girl was deliberately avoiding his eye in such a manner, that it was obvious.

…What did he say?

"Did you actually see him eating his meal? Did you see him do so much as more than play around with it? Because I was sure to keep a watch on him, and let me just say I for one, wouldn't say I saw him eat anything!" Gaius snapped furiously at Arthur, and the prince immediately wanted to open his mouth and say 'yes!' He had seen Merlin eating at dinner. But Arthur stopped himself just short of saying anything when the realization was suddenly banging him across the back of the head…Merlin had eaten. But only a bite or two of his peas, and Arthur was sure it had only been done because Merlin was in the midst of trying to tease and mess around with Arthur. The first in a very long time…but a few measly peas was not something even a small child could have lived off of. Especially not for dinner…and now that he was thinking it, it was around lunchtime when he went and confronted Merlin about his cheating ways. Amongst him getting his wrist fixed-Merlin should've never had to get fixed up because of him-and getting dressed for the banquet, had he had time to eat lunch at all? …Surely he must've had a good breakfast…but then Arthur remembered how he had found his consort that morning, ordering chicken from the kitchens and dragging him away to meet with Bayard…the dread returned to Arthur's stomach in strong pulses that almost knocked him off his feet. Had Merlin truly not eaten a single thing all day…when Arthur himself had made sure to eat each and every meal that had been provided for him. "And it's more than him missing his dinner. Merlin's eating has been very sporadic at best for many weeks now. We're lucky he eats one full meal every so often to keep him up and moving. It's no wonder he fainted so easily as the poison was introduced to his body. Without the food Merlin should've had to keep him strong the poison is hitting all of the weak points of his body at once. It's the only substantial thing in him at the moment."

Arthur's stomach churned and lurched with bile forming…the poison was the only substantial thing inside Merlin. The simple fact rung through his head again like the beating of some large drum in his head…something that happened every time he had learned something he wished he never had too. And the prince almost wanted to let loose this irrational anger that told him to start screaming at Gaius, and demanding to know what he has been doing to look after his consort if he couldn't even force a bit of food down his gullet every now and then. But then Arthur remembered…it also wasn't Gaius' responsibility to make sure his consort wanted for nothing. It was his, and coming at all of this hot headed would be a sure fire way for Gaius to actually throw him out of the chambers. He needed to remain calm and wait until he was someplace secure before allowing this kind of emotion out…and Arthur breathed in the largest puff of air that he could manage, and breathed out again to keep a level head.

"I know that I am going to regret this, but perhaps you can do a bit more elaboration of why Merlin hasn't been eating? I do know the castle provides him food, so access isn't a problem with this." Arthur spoke in a surprisingly regal and calm tone to the anguish and confusion battling away inside of him. Not one soul would've been able to tell it was taking everything he had to not scream to the heavens and demand to know why Merlin was like this…and why Arthur had been so blind for so long as to not know his own involvement in Merlin's poor health. "If the castle is not preparing his meals to his liking, then maybe I can do something. Is there perhaps a favorite food he enjoys to eat the most…something that would tempt him into sustaining him a much healthier eating habit?"

For Arthur Pendragon, the idea of not eating was completely unthinkable. He had never once thought much for food, never had to worry about where his next meal was coming from. As soon as he was hungry, he could have a snack brought to him in an instant. He had three square meals automatically brought straight to his rooms like clockwork-unless was expected to be dining with his father on the rare occasion. But even then, food was already set out and waiting for him to arrive. Even if Arthur was away from the castle, he knew how to hunt and skin any of the animals he caught to make a substantial meal…and there's a certain safety net in place. Just knowing the castle was here and all Arthur had to do was make it back home safety…he had everything he needed until the next time he decided he would leave the safety of the castle walls. So it was off putting for his consort to be so picky, he'd turn his nose up when some of the best cooks in Camelot worked in the kitchens.

Apparently Arthur still didn't get what Gaius was saying, since the man nearly exploded on him, face glowing that beat red it had been earlier, "Have you not seen my nephew! Just go on and look at him right now! Take a good long look and see for yourself!" He was waving his finger like mad, pointing directly at Merlin's limp form…Arthur followed that finger until he was finally looking at Merlin again. Something he had been trying to avoid till now…but he could feel his knees tremble a small bit as his throat closed up tight. It…hurt…surprisingly bad, to see Merlin in this state. Arthur hadn't thought it would feel as bad as this. "My nephew is depressed! He's done gave orders to the kitchens to not worry about sending him his meals since he doesn't want to 'waste the food' he's not going to be eating anyway. People who are depressed aren't exactly picky with their food because they don't like it. It's because food doesn't interest them at all! And he's only gotten worse…he spends so much time locked away in his room trying to escape the world outside. And you come in here thinking he's having a fit about the type of food he's been being fed?" Gaius tutted loudly and shook his head in disgust. "We're lucky if we can force a small spoonful or two of broth down his throat most days."

Arthur's throat bobbed restlessly as he tried swallowing…that word…'depressed'. It sounded so dark and vile. Something that was evil and needed to be squashed before it could affect the mind of his consort more than it already had. And then Arthur lowered his head, allowing his bangs to cast this dark shadow-ominous-across his face. He couldn't even do that right, trying to offer suggestions as to how to help Merlin once he got back onto his feet again only twisted around on him. But Arthur was able to see what Gaius meant by making him look at Merlin….it should have been obvious that Merlin wasn't eating as good as he should've been. Merlin had always been slim and slight, the prince had known that the second he first saw him. But now he might as well have been skin and bones compared to the days past. And hadn't Arthur noticed-when he was lowering Merlin onto that bed-that it had been far too easy carrying him all the way here. Arthur's sword carried a bit more weight than Merlin had…if Arthur could go back in time, he would've been sure to make sure Merlin got that stupid plate of chicken this morning.

Something that would probably help put a bit more meat on his bones…

"…I think that everything has already been settled here. I can see there's nothing left for me to do to help my consort by just standing here." Arthur said, his lips going thin with a steel and grim determination crossing his features. His face might have well been impenetrable, the mask of a prince firmly set where it should be. Everything new he learned about Merlin seemed to make him want to stay, to take care of him, make sure there wasn't a chance of him doing anything foolish in his sleep. But he knew if he did…he might never leave to get this flower back to Merlin. And if Merlin died because of his own inaction…then it might feel as if Arthur had just lost a limb. He wouldn't know how to operate without Merlin being there. Merlin's safety was absolutely necessary…for the both of them. "I'll be leaving the city to get this flower within the hour, do not try and convince me not to go. I have already made up my mind. I would already be gone but I need to collect my men and a small supply that'll get me through the next few days. I'll be back as soon as I can be…you have my word that I will not return unless I have what I need for Merlin."

There was not a force in this world that could've changed his mind in that moment…once Arthur made a decision, he would be determined to stick with it. Even to the bitter end, because this was for Merlin. Arthur was willing to risk life and limb and fight off strange beasts and mystery caves just to return with something that could heal Merlin. For Merlin…Arthur forced a swallow down his throat. This was all for Merlin. Not for Gaius, who he had gotten sidetracked with earlier for wanting to have a good impression with. It had never been for Gaius, the blond prince seemed to realize in that moment. Because without his consort…without his Merlin…why would Arthur want to bother changing the impression Gaius had of him all his life.

Bedside, some things were far more important than getting the uncle of his consort to hate him a little bit less. Hell, Arthur did not care if Gaius hated them for the rest of his days. If he was able to get Merlin to live…then it would be a worthy trade. Even if Arthur had to spend the next decade of his life being forced to dodge around Gaius every time he wanted to do a check-in on Merlin…then that would be okay. As long as he could see a flush of life brimming in Merlin's cheeks, see the teasing bit of warmth and amusement filling Merlin's eyes like they had been before everything in the world went wrong…

For Merlin…

For Merlin…

For Merlin…

And hopefully, Arthur could learn how to better control his own self when it came to his consort. He never wanted to come get his consort and find him in such a state again. Never wanted to be told he was still abusing Merlin…Arthur couldn't say how he was supposed to go at things better. He had been mean to the boy, and absent minded at best, and cruel when he didn't have to be for so long…he almost didn't know any other way how to behave. But if Merlin agreed to live for him…he would try. God would he try…

For Merlin…

For Merlin…

For Merlin…

As it should have always been.

"Prince Arthur," Gwen's soft voice rang out across the room just before Arthur could take his dramatic leave out of there-and feeling as if he was leaving behind something incredibly precious in his wake-and Arthur twisted around automatically to face her. His gaze shooting back down to Merlin to be sure his consort wasn't getting any worse-now that he had looked at him the once, he didn't know how he was supposed to live the next few days without seeing his face again-but there was nothing that hadn't already been there before. And Gwen was rising from her stool, a shameful expression on her face as she bowed herself down low at the waist, hands tucked together in the folds of her skirts between her legs. "I wish to apologize to you for my earlier outburst. I should know better on how I need to conduct myself when in the presence of nobility. But I know Merlin's only chance at survival is if you return with the cure to heal him. Perhaps it is wrong of me to ask for anything but I do beg you now…please help him. Consort Merlin is my very best of friends and I know it's inappropriate for a simple serving girl like myself to say such things. But…I can't lose him."

Gwen was right…it was incredibly inappropriate for her to be claiming a close friendship with their consort. And Royal that was worth their salt would have slapped her across the face-just like he'd done to Merlin, just like he'd done to Merlin, just like he'd done to…Mer-for her impudence. But Arthur felt as if his stomach was twisting into knots, the sight of her looking as if she was two seconds away from dropping onto her knees to bow deeper and show how grateful she was for him going out of his way to do this…she shouldn't be thanking him, was what Arthur thought. His throat burned as he looked away…it should have been a given that he would go on his consort's behalf.

"Rise yourself Guinevere, do not bow your head down to me…not now." Arthur forced out, the burning in his throat feeling as if he had been the one to swallow poison…had Merlin felt this burn in his throat just before the pain hit? Or had it been more subtle than that…and the burning only seems to worsen when the girl poked her head up, her features creasing together with worry as she clenched her hands tighter in her skirts. As if she thought 'she' had been the one to do something wrong…when it wasn't her at all. "I do not wish for you to mention how much a friendship with my consort is wrong ever again, do you hear me?"

Arthur was trying to be earnest, but Gwen reeled back like she had been struck. And Arthur frowned, rolling his words back in his head, not knowing why she seemed even more upset with what he'd said…even his own father had once deemed it to be a curious factor that his consort would spare so much energy on the servants as to befriend them. But it would cost so much more energy to try getting him to stop, and honestly…he didn't want to. Gwen was probably the best thing that had came into his consort's life, and that was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing it was an honor somebody other than him had taken. But it had appeared as if the better woman had won…Arthur stalled as he finally realized what Gwen must have heard instead of what he had been trying to say.

"No, no, no. I didn't mean…I didn't mean that you shouldn't be friends…" Arthur could feel his princely facade cracking just a bit with renewed panic. First Merlin tried to kill himself just to get away from him, and then Gaius hated him, and now he was unable to even talk to Gwen. Why were girls-peasant girls if he was more specific at the moment-have to be so difficult to talk too. Arthur swallowed down the acid in his throat before giving it another shot…for Merlin, feeling as if his pride had just been shot out the window. "I simply meant that my consort is lucky to have you by his side. And I won't disrupt any friendship you may have formed with him. And I wish too…I wish too…" Arthur found this part to be the most difficult to get out. If Arthur had thought it was difficult to do this with his consort…his king was likely to have him checked for ailments if he knew he was now attempting to do the same with a peasant. "I wanted to say the outburst you have was completely understandable. I honestly do not think I would have been able to handle my composer for so long if I was in your position. But my consort did bring a bit of information to my attention before the banquet tonight. And on the off chance that I do not come back…I would like to now apologize to you. For the horrid ordeal that I put you through with the dungeons last month. It was incredibly quick minded of me to accuse you before talking to you beforehand. I know that the work you do for Lady Morgana and the castle cannot be matched with any other servant."

Gwen looked more startled than anything, like a deer that had became memorized by the lights coming from the fire glowing bright in their torches. Speechless, in fact. And she jerkily put her head up and down as if she was nodding…Arthur had said all that he needed too. Maybe Merlin would even be proud of him for seeing the error in his ways and trying to make some kind of amends if the worst did happen. But Arthur had a lot to think about-his short reprieve upstairs had not given him much time to truly process what he had learned. And Arthur had far more things he needed to do that would take time-increasingly precious time that Merlin might not have-that couldn't wait.

Arthur bowed his head once in fair well to the old physician, a thank you brimming on his tongue…but a thank you for what…he didn't know. Thank you for looking after my consort in my steed. Thank you for doing everything I had failed to do. Even thank you, for willing to be a better man than he had been as of late. But those words seemed too little for the gratitude the prince felt now, knowing his consort was going to be looked at by the best in all the land. So Arthur swallowed the words back down, knowing Gaius would sooner spit in his face than accept anything from Arthur, let alone his gratitude.

And then Arthur looked back at Merlin…it took far more effort than it should've taken to not march over there just to cup his jawline in his hand. To smooth his thumb down along that once beautiful but now horrifying mark over his cheek…now his turn to behave as if Merlin was crafted out of the most fragile glass on the planet. But he couldn't, and he didn't, so terrified it was only going to take a single touch to make Merlin shatter into a million different pieces. Regretful…Arthur turned away from all of them and stormed out the door.

…And right into a large group of men waiting on the other side of the door.