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"You look horrible," Elyan announced as he stared at Gwaine splayed out on his bed. The knight having caught something a few days prior only seemed to get worse as the days progressed.
Gwaine weakly smiled, "I'll take that as a compliment." His voice was hoarse and his face flushed from a persistent fever that didn't want to let up.
Elyan reached behind him, letting the door swing shut with a soft thud before he made his way and sat on the side of the bed. Pulling a vial from his pocket he tossed it on Gwaine's chest.
"Merlin said to take that, should help with the fever."
"He said that last time," Gwaine grumbled. Downing the vial with a grimace before letting his arm fall limp on the bed. Hardly having the energy to do anything.
Elyan gave him a sympathetic smile as he grabbed the empty vial, and placed it on the table at Gwaine's bedside.
The usually boisterous man being so quiet and much not himself made Elyan feel off himself. His usual presence around Gwaine mostly consisted of deflected teases or teasing of his own. But now all he held was sympathy seeing Gwaine shiver and whimper to the illness's pleasure.
Though, even If sympathetic, he hardly hesitated as he quickly snatched the blanket away from Gwaine when he attempted to cover himself up more with the heavy covers.
"Shouldn't cover yourself too much," He chided him.
Gwaine groaned, "I'm Freezing."
"That's the fever's doing." Moving the heavy cover down to Gwaine's feet Elyan replaced it with a lighter cover. Barely hiding the grimace as he felt Gwaine's clammy skin while pulling the blanket up and over him.
"You've come to just dote on me?" Gwaine joked. Trying to slip some normal Gwaine-ness back into his tone.
"I came to make sure you don't die."
"Aw," Gwaine cooed, "You do care."
Elyan lightly chuckled, "surprisingly I do."
A light pat lingered on Gwaine's shoulder before Elyan made his way and dragged a nearby chair over to the side of the bed. Gwaine spared him a glance as he furrowed his eyebrows at Elyan's actions.
"Not leaving?"
Elyan shrugged his shoulders before sitting down, "Should I?"
"You'll get sick," Gwaine said as if his words had overridden the rasp of his voice and the current state that served as a reminder of his illness.
"I've survived worse." He brushed it off, leaning back in the chair. "Besides, Merlin won't be too happy with me if I let his favourite knight die."
Gwaine scoffed, "As much as I would love to take that title, I think Lancelot win's by a landslide."
"Then second—no, third favourite knight then."
"Whose second?"
"Me of course," Elyan teased.
"Wouldn't doubt that, I've always been nothing but a burden and trouble to Merlin."
He grimaced at Gwaine's words. "Don't say that."
"It's true," Gwaine shrugged it off as not a joke but a statement. "Everyone always grows tired of me after a while."
He heard Gwaine say those words before but always in a much lighter context. Gwaine being—well... Gwaine and making a joke that they all had played along with. The teasing of his eccentric ways that all the fellow knights meant in a good manner. He didn't realize what could have been hurting Gwaine was their own blindness to how he treated emotions.
Though right then, with Gwaine's barriers pushed down by the fragility of an illness, so weak and vulnerable. Elyan could see how much those words never were a joke but rather Gwaine's feelings hidden behind humour.
To see the face that always held a smile and tried to get a smile on everyone else's face, almost lifeless, dull and without much of any emotion; didn't settle right for Elyan. His mouth should be sore from the smile that never faded around Gwaine. And his eyes equally so from the amount of times he'd roll his eyes at the other man's antics.
Elyan sighed, "We all must be a little insane then." He got up and found the cloth and bowl of water Merlin had left in the room. He could tell just from the sight of the man that the fever was probably spiking again.
"'Cause Camelot wouldn't be the same without you." He rolled up his sleeves and dipped the cloth before squeezing as much water out as he could, leaving it damp.
"And believe it or not,"—he sat on the side of the bed by Gwaine—"the days are going by drudgingly slow with your normal Gwaine-ness missing."
He placed his hand to Gwaine's forehead, confirming his suspicion before exchanging his hand for the cool cloth. Gwaine spared him a tired and solemn glance with no struggle to resist Elyan's actions. Though Elyan doubted he even had the energy to resist.
"Get some rest. You need to hurry up and get better." He smiled down at Gwaine before making his way back over to the chair.
"I'll be right here."
Gwaine's eyes stayed on him as he sat down in the chair. Managing a weak content smile at him that Elyan took for Gwaine taking his words as nothing else but the truth.
Elyan watched as he tried to rest. Hence the word tried being the opposing factor against the slumber nowhere in Gwaine's reach. Instead of peaceful rest, he tossed and turned for a while before finally giving up.
The bed dipped as Elyan took the spot beside Gwaine once again. The cloth was removed and freshened up, though he seemed even worse off than before. Elyan could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. His temperature had spiked, and yet no colour or flush from the fever stained his face. Only the pale complexion, that stole colour even from his lips remained.
"Are you feeling worse?"
He received a groan as Gwaine rolled onto his side. "I'm gonna be sick…"
Looking around before finding a container placed by the floor at the head of the bed—courtesy of Merlin—thankfully.
He put it down just in time before Gwaine was presumably—and rather dreadfully—sick. Elyan only moved to pull back Gwaine's hair with one hand while the other rubbed his back. Remembering Gwen or even Leon doing the same when he had fallen ill as a child.
After so long of Gwaine dry heaving from his lack of stomach contents, Elyan moved the container away. Helping Gwaine lay back down as he rushed to replace the cold cloth.
"I'm dying," Gwaine whined.
Elyan shook his head. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm dying!"
"You're not dying." Elyan sighed. At least not on his watch.
"Here," he poured water into a cup and offered it, "drink some water."
The other man swatted it away as he turned his head in the opposite direction.
"Gwaine," Elyan warned, like a mother getting her child to eat something they didn't want to.
"I'll just puke it back up."
"You have to try." He offered it forward again. This time Gwaine—with all reluctance—accepted the cup and took a sip before handing it back.
"See," Elyan harped on the action, "not so bad."
He got a groan in reply before Gwaine buried himself back into a cocoon of blankets. Elyan Though not even a few minutes later he was hating himself for making Gwaine drink the water. Being positioned carefully holding Gwaine's hair back while he dry heaved over the container.
"Sorry," Elyan said guiltily and took the container out of sight.
Gwaine fell onto the back. His hand resting on his abdomen from the pain of dry heaving and his eyes shut from exhaustion.
"Not your fault," He mumbled. His words barely drawn out over one another like clumsy tired feet after a long day.
The sweat glistening on his skin made Elyan grimace. As well as the tunic upon his body which was soaked through with sweat.
"Let's get you into a fresh tunic."
Gwaine tried to swat his advances of help away once again. "You probably have better things to do than waste your time with me."
"You're not a waste of time," Elyan stated. "And besides," he continued. "The only better thing I have to do is listen to Leon give the antique models of weapons lecture he's torturing Mordred with as we speak."
"Poor Mordred."
He nodded his head, "Indeed."
"Now, come on." He helped Gwaine sit up with no struggle from the other man before rummaging through his clothes. He managed to find a tunic that wasn't torn or thrown on the floor, which Elyan presumed we're not clean whatsoever.
"Here." He watched as Gwaine sluggishly took off his tunic before he accepted the outstretched clean one from Elyan.
Gwaine groaned as he laid back and pulled the covers over himself.
"It'll be over soon." Elyan replaced the cloth upon his forehead.
"Says the guy before his friend dies."
"You're not going to die, you just have a bad cold and before you know it you'll be back to swooning people right off their feet."
"Yeah by being a ghost and scaring them," Gwaine mumbled
"Rest." Elyan chided him and patted his arm. Though he could only watch as his friend got progressively worse. His temperature was far too high for Elyan to even fathom that the water and cloth were even doing anything. Not to mention the barely teetering off the edge that was Gwaine's consciousness as he kept trying to talk to him.
"You hanging in there, Gwaine?"
He pressed the cloth to his forehead as Gwaine's eyes fluttered open and focused on him.
"You're pretty," he giggled. His hand came up but immediately fell back down.
"And you're delusional."
Gwaine shook his head, "just peachy."
Elyan traded his hand for the cloth. "You're burning up." It was more to the space around them than for him or Gwaine. The glossed over eyes full of exhaustion that peered up at him didn't make matters better. Elyan felt worse that everything he tried did nothing to Gwaine's progression of getting sicker and sicker.
He knew Gwaine wouldn't stay conscious any longer if his fever stayed as it was or even worse; got higher.
"I'll go see if Merlin has something else, maybe—"
"No."
The sudden firm disagreement caught him off guard. Halting him from getting up and leaving the room.
"Stay," Gwaine continued, "please?"
He didn't want to be alone. Gwaine wasn't an alone type person, even given his history of being a ride where the wind takes him, nomad. He didn't value loneliness as he valued others' company. One being the easiest to obtain and default of a self-conscious mind. And the other being something desired but hardest to keep and hold onto.
"Only because you asked nicely," He lightly teased. Keeping his place beside Gwaine as the cloth was freshened and replaced.
He stayed there till the lack of sunlight made it almost impossible to see in the room and his eyes grew weary. Candlelight flickered across the surface of the water as Elyan watched the uneven rise and fall of Gwaine's chest. Granted he was sleeping but it verged on the border of peace.
Elyan, more than relieved when he felt the back of his hand to Gwaine's head. The fever they had been trying so desperately to break finally was climbing back down. He could finally breathe without worry heavy on his chest that Gwaine would get sicker.
Much to dismay Gwaine's words of his upending death, he was glad to prove him wrong for once. Even if next week he was the one laying in bed with an impossible to break fever and Gwaine was the one doting over him. Albeit not as good a caretaker as Elyan was, but... the gesture was appreciated and so was his company.