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"I'm sorry, I just - I thought you were dead."

The look in his eyes, sweet and disarmed as still slightly glazed they were (and stunned he had appeared even with the ability to tease); how pale his skin was, even more so than usual, waxen; and how dark the sweat upon his shirt.

But how lovely his gaze, his smile, slack as it was for that brief second after she pressed her lips to his, feeling their fullness, how soft and giving they were, even in his obvious state of shock.

Yet "It's fine, it's more than fine," the way he gazed up at her before asking what had happened, what he had missed.... Drinking the poison was the last thing he remembered, but already his quick mind jumps to work analysing.

All makes Gwen's heart thump and flutter.

Gaius begins to speak, saving her from doing so (and it is only right that he should be the one to explain the situation anyhow, seeing as he is the castle physician and knows precisely what needed doing to save life). Gwen focuses back on Merlin, sees those bright eyes widen as he bursts out incredulously

"Arthur got himself locked in a cell for me?"

"In order to bring me the flower that would save you, yes, he did," Gaius replies stoutly, head cocked as if to indicate that the prince isn't so bad, does Merlin see? Then gesturing to her, he adds "...we have the flower after all due to Gwen."

Those blue eyes, clear and warm in the way they are always when he looks at her - unless she's imagining - cause Gwen's stomach to swoop as he gazes at her now. "Oh, it... wasn't anything, really," she rushes to say. "I just took a plate in to Arthur and he gave me the flower for you to use, Gaius."

The elderly physician sighs, eyes widening dramatically in his wrinkled countenance as he stares hard at Merlin. "This dear young lady also stayed with you to bring your fever down with cool water on cloths. Thanks ought to be in order! And speaking of, you really must get yourself cleaned off, Merlin. I'll bring out the big cauldron for your bath. Just this once," his tone is as sharp as the look in his eyes as Merlin's brows go up and he opens his mouth. "You'll need to scrub the dickens out of it afterwards," he harrumphs and pushes up his sleeves, shuffling across the floor to drag out the metal container, Gwen gratefully leaping to help Gaius do so.

Merlin twists a bit and watches as Gwen uses her legs and back to shift the cauldron, curls falling out of her do-up and around her face. He wants to push his fingers through her hair and pull it back up for her, suddenly; to feel how soft it is. His fingers twitch, face going hot and the tips of his ears likely turning fiery red as he nods to Gaius, clears his throat and looks away again.

***

Gwen does not quite look at Merlin as the physician does the looking for both of them, shaking his head and sighing. "Well I'll leave the two of you to sort this out whiles I go and beseech the King not to leave his only son languishing in the dungeon." Passing Merlin, Gaius puts a hand upon the young man's shoulder and says a trifle quieter, though his tone is just as sharp "Do try to figure things out, Merlin, because when I return here tonight I am going directly to bed, and you should too."

Gaius focuses on his apprentice, grousing about how he had just needed to stay awake for three straight days because of Merlin, and the door slams after him, loudly enough for Gwen to jump and shut her eyes a moment.

"Heh, just imagine if I really was the ghost of myself come back to haunt you all," Merlin shifts his shoulders and lifts his body forward on his pallet with a little hiss of sound "aah - Gaius haunts himself better than I can, slamming the door and that. Nothing's changed while I've been ill, then." Merlin blows out a breath as he settles his feet carefully on the floor. Feels wobbly, weaker than he, well. Not than he expected; honestly he didn't know what to expect other than from Gwen's and Gaius' reactions he had either seemed, or had actually been, dead. At least for a moment.

Merlin pushes off the bed with his hands to stand and immediately sways. Of a sudden Gwen is there, catching him.

Her cheek presses to his sweat-soaked shirt as her arms steady him, and he notices with how near her head is that yes, her brown curls are soft. And there is a scent to her, besides, like rosewater or lavender, a fresh scent that puts him in mind of flowers after a life-giving spring rain.

Her hands are warm and gentle on his still-clammy skin, and though they aren't soft ...well she has a soft touch but as many callouses as he has himself, Merlin has to breathe deep. His heart is thudding. "Thank you, Gwen," he says, and it is for far more than simply this; tis for her steadiness and warmth towards him, and everyone, how lovely she has always been - his first friend in Camelot, the girl with the good and loving heart.

It hits Merlin now that she has a beautiful soul as she steps back and seemingly brisk, says "Don't thank me just yet, we've still got to get you cleaned up."

***

A blush colours features and Gwen's eyes flicker across Merlin's face before she drops her gaze and presses together her lips. "If you need, or want my help with this, that is, I can -"

"I do," Merlin blurts out, far too quickly, probably. He scrunches his features a bit after. "I mean that yes, I'd be glad of your help, Gwen. Only if you're comfortable giving it," he adds in thought of how Arthur is apt to immediately strip down to bathe without paying any mind to others' boundaries or space. Of course, as Merlin is his manservant there is a difference, and there are other differences here as well, which Gwen wilfully seems to mistake.

"Don't see why I shouldn't be comfortable, you're rather thin so I can help you over to the cauldron. I'm not about to let you drown in a bath when you can't stand on your own! That is to say," mortified into staring at Merlin as she realises that she's practically called him weak, Gwen sees that sweet smile he always bestows upon her, crinkling the outer corners of Merlin's eyes as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"No I quite agree, I'm useless right now, even more than usual."

Merlin laughs and is struck by the warmth and surety in Gwen's voice when his friend curls her arm around his waist and utters "You've never been useless, Merlin."

Both of their cheeks flame then as they catch glances and instantaneously look away from one another.

"Here, let me get you to the bench and I'll fill up the cauldron with water for you. How's that sound?" Gwen offers.

Merlin nods, in likely far more vigorous fashion than is strictly necessary, but despite feeling like he can barely stand on his feet, not to mention any sharp and large movement might topple him, it is all that Merlin can do not to take hold of Gwen by the waist, turn himself to her and kiss her again. His head has cleared of feverish fog. Still, though, he feels a mite cloudy - from disbelief, perhaps. It's just...

Guinevere is wonderful. She has been from the first, to call him brave, heroic even for standing up to Prince Arthur; for always having a smile and greeting for him, to pick flowers and give him a lavender sprig "Purple suits you," she had said, entire manner softening before instantly she'd added "Not that red DOESN'T suit you, just -" he smiled and swore to her that it was all right. Which was and remains true.

When he is with Gwen, everything is all right, always.

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She disarms him with her candour, with her abilities. People might call it charm, say she has charms, but that implies a work to do it, an ensnaring factor, with intent inherent to bewitch, as with a spell.

Yet she has no spell, Merlin watches as Gwen eases him to settle himself down upon the bench beside Gaius's table. She then hauls over the bucket of fresh water that she had earlier brought. All there is of Gwen is goodness - exemplified in how willing she had been to sit with a friend for who knows how many hours in order to bathe his face with a cool cloth to lessen his fever - she had done this, even without being asked; had demanded of Gaius what she could do (of that he has no doubt), and had done it. For him, for Merlin's sake.

Gwen pours water now into the cauldron for him, and asks whether or not Merlin would like to have it warmed, but assessing the state of his body and his clothes, and therefore his needs at present based upon his knowledge of fevers (Gaius has been trying to teach him some doctoring skills), the young man shakes his head.

"Nah, cold water is sure to do wonders for me," he tells her, and pulls his shirt up his torso and over his head without ado or preamble.

Gwen's breath catches in her throat as his body is revealed, pale planes of skin like linen or snow, smooth save for a smattering of chest hair that thickens and so darkens, trailing downwards past his navel, and same shade as his lips are his -

"Oh, Gwen I'm so sorry, I should've told you I was going to take my shirt off so that you could look away, if you're uncomfortable."

"What?" She gasps the word, focusing on Merlin's eyes, his messy head of hair visible again as he has frozen in the act of tugging his shirt off fully. He means to preserve her modesty by offering for her not to intrude upon his, though save for a slight flush on his cheeks, Merlin does not seem to mind anything of how he currently looks. Yet he wishes to make her comfortable. As always. "Oh. That's sweet of you, Merlin. But I'm... I'm fine." Tone almost a squeak at the end of that phrase, yes, she is totally fine. Right.

Gwen chides herself as she bites her lip, eyes widening and brows lifting as at last Merlin takes his eyes off her, after smiling "Okay, that's good" and dunking his arms and then chest and head into the water of the improvised tub. He lifts his head up and back after dousing himself and oh dear gods -

Merlin is saying... something, yet Gwen finds herself transfixed by his skin shining with water drops, healthy pale and not sickly, horrid white the way it got late in the fever, when he was gasping and sucking in air strangely, aborted breaths sounding as though his lungs were full of liquid, like mud, or - how the poison sapped his strength and consciousness so swiftly, and how he -

"... please," she hears, and Gwen tears herself out of worries, the panic that is again making her chest feel tight as though she cannot breathe; even as Merlin is alive, and safe, he's looking at her now, eyes full of concern and he'd asked her a question. If she was all right, and then, if she could help him, bring a cloth, or something "...so I can reach my back. If you don't mind," he's so worried, as if he doesn't want her to go out of her way, even as "Ask, Merlin. You know I'd grant you anything," she said that once, when he was unsure how to ask a favour of her, and Gwen instantly berated herself for the way she sounded. Desperate, or ridiculous, over-the-top. And now her heart thunders in her chest as she finds a cloth for him to clean himself with and nearly drops it from nerveless fingertips. Feels like she herself could drop to the floor from embarrassment, which is ridiculous, this is Merlin.

Yes, it is Merlin, who has always been so wonderful and kind. Who introduced himself to her and shook her hand whilst he'd been in the stocks; how his voice had sounded when he called her Guinevere and suggested she leave so as not to be pelted with tomatoes by his fans.... And he has never once been any less gallant than that. He always says hello, and stops to ask about her day and listen when she tells him about it. He is funny, and adorable, with a deep glugging laugh that sounds like water poured from a stout jug, and his entire face crinkles with it whenever he laughs or smiles. Who teases her yet also somehow seems to be genuinely impressed by her, and really she has no idea what to do with herself.

"Well, erm, right now, if you want to hand me that cloth I can finish up my bath," she hears Merlin speak in a manner bright yet unsure, and closes her eyes, winces.

"Oh, no. I said that last bit out loud, didn't I?" What if she said more than just the last phrase? What if she has offended him, or made him feel uncomfortable, especially after he has tried so hard not to offend her sensibilities? Gods, what did she say?

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Uh oh it's magic when I'm with you... you've got magic inside of you. Just a little bit of magic pulls me through!

"Gwen." A slight splash precedes a movement, and long hands are wrapping around hers. Merlin's face is earnest as he dips it to look into hers, Gwen noting the stripes of red flushing across his high cheekbones, yet he does not appear displeased. On the contrary. "Gwen, it's alright. It's so flattering to hear you like me so much. I, erm," his eyes get big and he lifts one hand, waving it about. Gwen feels her heart sink. Surely he means to say this is madness, that he does not feel the same.

She tries to look up at him, but also not to look at him at the same time, which she knows is highly absurd. Feels truly ill now. Even as it is absolutely all right that Merlin does not feel the same as she. No, this situation is not profoundly embarrassing at all.

But his hands, one taking the cloth she's offered tremblingly, the other pressing her shoulder, those limber deft fingers, long and slightly knobbly, pale and gentle; calloused like her own, those fingers move to touch her chin and Merlin speaks again.

"Gwen," and then her full name, soft as the first time he'd spoken it, sounding almost musical in his tone of voice: "Guinevere, I'm saying that I - I like you too. A lot, I just didn't know," his shoulders shrug as her rich dark eyes lift to his, and his own eyes search her face. His thumb rubs circles on the skin of her hand that he still holds. "After you kissed me, when I, you helped so much, you did so much. You've always done so much for me since the day we met."

She attempts a shrug of her own and ducks her head, bashful. She hadn't realised that he noticed. How gone she is; and how this time "You - you were dying," she murmurs up at him. "And that's what took you -" she stops, shakes her head, presses her lips together, hair frizzing as more pieces fall out of the twist she'd attempted to put it into, to be and stay out of the way, at her movement.

He nods, almost laughing, looking so hopeful and abashed and nervous at once. He lifts his hand to push back her hair, help it stay in place, and it's as soft as he thought it would feel, so that a thrill goes through him. "Yes I was, and I, I want to do things for you now, too. I -"

"You have," she breathes, eyes warm and bright and so lovely with feeling as she clutches at him, hardly daring to hope. "You've done so much for me already, Merlin."

"Okay," he gulps a little, nods. Gwen wonders if she's moved too fast, again, the way she is sure she had when kissing him. But his lips twitch upwards as he continues "Well now we've established how much of an oblivious idiot I apparently am, would it be alright if I..." Merlin stops a moment, licks his lips, and inquires hesitantly "if I kiss you this time?"

Gwen feels as though she could scream or jump for joy, literally, yet between her and Merlin is a cauldron of water, so with a shuffling shift of her body sideways first she nods, unable to keep a smile from spreading across her face, hand coming up to rest on Merlin's chest. Gwen curls her fingers as she whispers, acceptance and the relief in it almost like a sob "Yes, Merlin. Yes, you may kiss me."

He smiles, his hand gently pulling til her body is flush to his, and then he pushes fingers through her hair, getting it back for her, thumb coming to rest on her cheek as he leans in and presses his lips to hers. Just as soft and giving as before, yet warm, this time, and Gwen makes a sound in her throat as she kisses her friend in return, wrapping both arms around him. She could use this moment to scrub his skin with how forcefully she clutches at his shoulders and moves her arms over him, but focus is upon cleanliness of that sort no more from either one of them.

They kiss, and kiss, and if the bathwater was not already, it would be stone-cold by the time they both move back, shifting just enough to look at each other and continue to hold on in the chill air. Merlin remains in his trousers still, as he had not gotten round to asking if dropping them with Gwen still here would be appropriate. He is pretty certain that he has his answer now, as Gwen idly strokes her fingertips across his chest, running the length of them through his hair and swiping the pad of her thumb across his nipples, which causes Merlin to shudder and almost buckle with pleasure.

"I think - that's it for the bath, about," he gasps, because honestly the easier this cauldron is to clean for Gaius the better, and really the night is beyond that now. "I've got to get a -"

"Towel, yes, here." Instantly moving to get one for him, Gwen takes her hands away from his skin. He shivers but hasn't time to feel bereft before she is back and wrapping cloth snugly round him, kissing him this time on top of his head as he ducks a mite, automatically.

"Thank you, Gwen," Merlin speaks again with such affection and sincerity in his tone and face and eyes that despite all that had just been done, she can hardly bear to look at him. And then he lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles, the touch and gesture of which leaves her gasping, feeling shattered in the most wonderful and terrifying way. She feels so much for him, and by the look in his eyes dawning as summer sky above the morning sun, it seems as though he might be feeling, or starting to feel a bit of the same.

"You're welcome, Merlin."

Gwen thinks on how she had said that she would grant him anything, and as he wraps his arms around her in a hug that is as tight as it is full of affection, Gwen buries herself into him and finds that is even more true.

For Merlin - for the friendship, the love she feels for this dear man - she would do anything.