Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rain, almost sleet, was still coming down late in the afternoon as Gaius stood just inside the castle looking out through the huge doors at the top of the steps leading to the courtyard. Waiting.

He'd been told by a knight who had ridden in ahead of the contingent that had been on patrol to ready himself to treat an injured man. The young knight had not said who, before he'd rushed off, in a hurry to have a hot meal and a hotter bath. At least the man had been able to tell Gaius that the injury did not appear to be life-threatening. All the same, the physician was anxious to know what he would be dealing with, especially since Merlin was among those on patrol, as was the Prince, as Arthur had wanted to personally see the state of the roads given the number of Yule travellers who would be using them this week.

Gaius did not have long to wait, for within moments of taking up his position he could see the men coming in through the gate. All but four of the riders peeled off from the main group, heading towards the stables to care for their horses, but the Prince and his manservant, along with Gwaine and Leon continued on towards the castle. Arthur was leading the group, and Gaius could see that Merlin and Gwaine, riding to either side of Sir Leon, were keeping a close eye on the blond knight who sat hunched over on his horse; obviously he was the injured man.

As they neared the castle, Gaius made his way down the steps to greet them. "So what seems to be the problem?" asked the physician.

"It's really nothing," answered Leon, before any of the others could say differently. "I was not paying attention, and I fell off of my horse when she jumped a fallen branch; a childish mistake. Hurt my arm a bit, but I'll live," he added in disgust.

Merlin frowned at the knight and dismounted to join Gaius. "There is quite a bit of localized swelling in both his wrist and his elbow, although nothing seems out of alignment. He also has what may be a fracture in one rib, nothing out of alignment there either, though," Merlin advised the physician, pausing to cough into his hand.

Gaius looked at his ward in concern for a moment, hoping Merlin was not becoming ill. He seemed a bit pale, though it was hard to tell through the grime from their ride. Unfortunately, the physician had no time to worry about the boy with an injured knight to tend to.

"I've splinted the arm as best I could, and bound his ribs," the young warlock said once he'd caught his breath. Turning to Leon he gave a glare and added, "But he also neglected to tell you that he landed hard enough to lose consciousness for at least two minutes. He says he was just winded, but I think he may have hit his head when he fell. There's a bump."

"Hmm," said Gaius thoughtfully, taking a look to confirm Merlin's findings before nodding to Gwaine and Arthur to help the man down from his horse. "Did you do anything for that?" the physician asked his ward.

Merlin nodded, "Well, his eyes seem to be reacting to the light properly – I stopped to check a few times on the way back, but he was mumbling a bit for a few minutes right after he woke. He wanted to keep on with the patrol, but Arthur actually listened to me this time, and cut it short. I just thought with the rain and cold and all, that he'd better come back straight away so you could take a look at him."

"That was wise, my boy," said Gaius approvingly. "You may have a concussion, Leon. Merlin was right to insist on returning. But let's get you to my chambers so I can take a closer look."

A short time later saw Leon sitting on the patient bed with his arm and ribs newly wrapped, and a bottle of pain relieving draft in his hands.

"Now I want you to take that, and then lie back and rest," said the physician. "You should sleep if you can, although I will be waking you each hour until I am satisfied that you've taken no ill effects from that hit to your head."

Leon sighed. "But Gaius, I know you've got many patients to see to, and you may need the patient bed for people who are more ill than I am. Could I not return to my own chambers?" he asked hopefully. "I would be more comfortable there."

Gaius hesitated for a moment, reluctant to let the knight out of his sight. But what Leon had said was true, not to mention that the infirmary was quite cold since Merlin had not had a chance to pick up any firewood for the last two days. "I will only permit it if you have someone that can look in on you, Leon. Head injuries are not to be taken lightly," said the physician finally.

"Merlin could do it," said Arthur looking over at his servant who was busy putting away the bandaging materials. "And with his medical training, he would be able to tell if there was anything to be concerned about."

Gaius nodded. It seemed like a good plan.

The Prince crossed his arms across his chest and studied his senior knight for a moment. "With you bound up like that, you are going to need some help with housework for a few days," he concluded. At Leon's scowl, Arthur smiled and raised his voice to address Merlin, who was just coming over to join them. "So, it's settled. In between your chores for me, you can look in on Sir Leon, and you can also bring his dinner and clean up his room if it needs it."

Merlin frowned for a moment. He wanted to help, but Arthur seemed to have forgotten that his servant had already taken on a lot of extra work. Besides his normal duties, all of the servants were busy preparing the castle for Yule and the visiting Lords who had arrived to join the festivities. Merlin also had to organize a special private feast that Arthur was holding for his Round Table.

The Prince seemed to remember at least some of that, for he added, "Oh, and since I know I've been keeping you busy, I'll understand if you are not able to bring my meals on time. You may bring them around once you've seen to Leon."

Merlin sighed. Arthur meant well, but permission to bring meals late would barely make a dent in the young servant being able to keep up with all of the extra work this time of year entailed. And if truth be told, Merlin was not feeling all that well. Besides the congestion that had taken hold in his chest while he'd been out on patrol, now his nose was beginning to run, and his head was starting to feel like balls of wool had been stuffed inside it.

He had hoped to tell Gaius about it, and maybe get some sympathy along with some sort of remedy to clear his cold; possibly even a command to go to his bed. But one look at the relief in the three men's faces at finding a solution to their problem, and he knew he couldn't let them down.

"Thank you, Sire. Of course I'd be happy to help," Merlin said with a smile. "If you'll just let me change out of my wet clothes, I'll bring Leon up to his chambers now, and get him settled."

Merlin was propped up against the wall by the Prince's door. He'd just finished depositing Leon's and Arthur's dinner dishes in the kitchen, and had carried back two buckets of hot water so he could start filling the Prince's bath. The task had seemed much more difficult than usual due to Merlin's cold. Actually, the warlock was beginning to wonder if it may be more serious than he'd originally thought, as his legs were aching as was his head. He wouldn't be surprised if he was starting to run a fever too, given how chilled and trembly he felt.

Well, there was no help for it tonight, there was just too much to do. Pushing himself away from the wall and taking a deep breath, then pausing to cough when his lungs rebelled at the intake of air, he picked up his bucket again with a sigh. With all of the visitors in the castle for Yule, there were no kitchen boys free to help him carry the bathwater, so he would need to do twice as many trips as usual.

At last the bath was full, and while Arthur was happily relaxing, Merlin did his usual picking up of the laundry, closing of the curtains and turning down of the bedsheets.

"So, how is Sir Leon?" Arthur asked, not even opening his eyes as he leaned back against the rim of his tub.

"He's doing well," came the answer. "Anxious to be up and out of his bed, though Gaius wants him to stay there until the morning. I think he will be fine, though I will go to check on him a few more times tonight."

"Well, that's a relief," murmured Arthur, the comfort of his bath bringing him close to sleep. "He had me worried when he ended up on the ground, out of his senses like that."

"Mmm," agreed Merlin, as he brought the Prince's towel over and hung it to warm near the fire. He was annoyed at himself for not having done so earlier, but it seemed there were just too many other things running through his mind and vying for attention. Once by the fire, Merlin paused for a moment, closing his eyes and letting the flames warm his aching body.

Unfortunately, he did not get very long to enjoy it.

"Gods I'm tired," groaned Arthur, drawing Merlin's attention to him as he started to stir. "I wish I could just stay in here and rest for a year, but there seem to be a million things to do to get everything ready for Yule."

"You can say that again," said Merlin, grabbing the Prince's towel and sighing with regret at having to leave his warm spot by the fire.

"I have a few reports to finish up before calling it a night," Arthur said, as he allowed himself to be dried off.

Merlin paused nervously, hoping that the Prince did not want his help. Usually the servant enjoyed the challenge of doing calculations and helping to assess what the results meant for the kingdom, but tonight his head was feeling so muzzy that he doubted the numbers would make any sense.

"And since I know you've got to go back and help out Leon, you don't need to wait here while I do it. I'll get myself to bed," Arthur finished, easing Merlin's fears.

"Thank you, Sire," said Merlin as he pulled his master's nightshirt over his head. He hoped that he may be able to get to his own bed early.

"But don't forget that I need my mail coat brought up here by first thing tomorrow morning," Arthur added. "I'm eating breakfast with the Lords from the Eastern border region to discuss repairing the damage caused by the wind storm there a month ago, and I find such discussions go more smoothly when I look like a prince."

Merlin's hopes for an early night were immediately dashed. The armour was filthy and pitted, having last been worn during a quarterstave demonstration on a muddy field two days earlier. Arthur no doubt assumed that he'd cleaned it already, but he had never had a chance to get to it. Well, there was no point in bemoaning that now, he'd simply have to do it once he'd seen to Leon, but it promised to be a LONG night.

"I'll bring it bright and early," Merlin promised. He did not notice Arthur's brief frown of concern at the lack of a witty comeback to his line about looking like a prince.

"See that you do, Merlin," said Arthur, "and … get some rest, you look about to fall over," the Prince added, trusting that an early night and a little bit of sleep would set his servant to rights.

Merlin's eyes widened in surprise that Arthur had noticed anything wrong. "I will," he said with a tired smile, and picking up the basket of dirty laundry, he took his leave.

Chapter Text

For a brief time, luck seemed to be on the ailing warlock's side. He made his way to Leon's chambers to find that Gaius had already stopped by and pronounced the blond knight out of danger. Leon was obviously feeling much better, and was up and sitting at his desk absorbed in a set of plans for repairs to some of the battlements. The warlock gave a tired smile of relief since it meant he would not need return after he finished up in the armoury. The knight was still hobbled by his injuries though, so Merlin took the time to fetch him a goblet of wine, and then turned down the bedding and collected up the laundry before bidding the man a good night.

His luck continued to hold when he reached the washing rooms. One of the laundresses was still there and even though Merlin tried his best to hide it, somehow she could tell that he was not feeling his best. She gave him a sympathetic smile and held out her arms for his basket, which he gratefully gave up. He was more thankful than he could express at not having to spend the time sorting it all, although as he rushed toward his next task he had a momentary pang of regret that he could not just stay and huddle in the warm room.

He stumbled into the armoury a short time later hoping his luck would hold just a bit longer, and that the room would be empty. The young warlock held his breath anxiously as he looked around to make sure, and once he was certain he was alone, he allowed himself a quick spell to remove most of the dirt from Arthur's armour. Slowly blowing out his breath at getting away with it, he decided not to risk any more magic in the usually busy room, and took the mail coat down from its hook so he could do the rest of the polishing and repairs by hand. A few people came and went, mostly ignoring the young man, and Merlin admitted to himself that he was happy about that. He really did not feel up to his usual chatter, or to any conversation for that matter, content just to keep silent, with his head bowed to his work.

He started to hope that he may indeed get his early night when he found himself making a last pass of his polishing rag across the now sparkling mail coat well before the eleventh bell.

Merlin threw down his cloth and groaned as he straightened from the position he'd been in, startling a squire seated on the other side of the room. His hunch had not helped his aching body, and rolling his shoulders and flexing his back did not improve things in the least. Worst of all, now that he had stopped concentrating on his task, the pain in his head seemed to double in an instant, as did the fire in his throat.

He wished he knew how to do the transportation spell that he'd seen used a number of times, as he wanted nothing more than to be instantly curled up in his bed. Unfortunately, he'd have to use his feet, so with a grunt of effort he pushed himself upright. Deciding that he did not want to have to return all the way to the armoury in the morning, he picked up Arthur's coat and laid it over his arm before heading out of the room.

Merlin had no sooner pulled the door closed when his luck finally ran out. Rushing up the hallway was a serving maid that he recognized as the tavern keeper's daughter, and the look on the girl's face when she saw Merlin told him that he was the object of her search.

"Are you Sir Gwaine's friend?" she asked. "I was told to look for you in the armoury…"

For a second, Merlin closed his eyes in annoyance. He doubted this was good news. The usually fun-loving knight had had two of his men injured in an ambushed patrol earlier in the week and had been out of sorts ever since. The last time he'd seen Gwaine had been just after the man had helped him bring Leon into the infirmary. If he'd been at the tavern ever since, Merlin could only imagine the state he was in by this time. Still, the young servant knew his friend was having a hard time and deserved his sympathy, not his anger.

"Yes, I'm his friend," admitted Merlin. "What's he done now?"

The girl smiled with relief. "Well, he's just sitting there staring into his cup. He won't move or do anything, except he keeps saying he 'should have realized…'. My father wonders if you would please come and get him.

Merlin sighed; he'd expected as much. "Just let me put this back in the armoury then," he said, gesturing to Arthur's mail coat before opening the door and going back into the room to hang it.

Although it was really only a few hundred paces beyond the castle, it seemed to take forever to reach the tavern, and the short trip outside left Merlin breathless and with an aching chest. He had to stop once he got inside, and began coughing enough to make him lightheaded.

"Are you all right?" the tavern-keeper's daughter asked, with a frown of concern.

He waved her off to get her father, saying "Yes, I'm fine," though he felt anything but. He just wanted to retrieve Gwaine so he could get to his bed.

Merlin had already spotted his friend and headed over to his table, the tavern keeper joining him a moment later.

"He's been like this for over an hour," the man explained while Gwaine sat with a tankard clasped between his hands, staring down at the table and shaking his head from side to side sadly. "I've never seen him act this way before. I thought it best if he went home and slept it off."

Merlin looked carefully at his friend, but Gwaine did not seem to have even seen him yet. "Yes, I think you are right. If you can just help me get him up, I'll take him."

The innkeeper looked uncomfortable. "It's just that… he's left quite a tab this week, and I wanted to collect on it before Yule….Could I ask you to pay on his behalf before you take him?"

Merlin gaped at the man. He certainly didn't have nearly enough coin to pay for even one night in the tavern, or not a Gwaine-type night, anyway. But he didn't want to bother Arthur for it, or he risked getting his friend into trouble. He didn't think he'd be able to make Gwaine understand the situation this night either.

"I…..I'm not really sure… I …," he stammered, wracking his tired brain for a way to fix things.

Just then, a sad-looking young girl came into the tavern, tying on an apron as she headed towards the serving area. The innkeeper's eyes followed her for a moment, and then he began to smile, gesturing at her to join them.

"I think I have an idea," he said. "Mary here wanted to have a few days off to visit her mother, since it is Yule and all, but I had to deny her because it's just been too busy with all the people in the city for the Prince's feast. But if you agreed to take on her duties while she was away, it would just about cover your friend's tab, and you won't need to part with even one coin tonight. I'm sure the young knight will be happy to pay you back, once he is recovered from his melancholy."

"I don't know…" Merlin started, "I mean, I have duties in the castle. I can't take time off to work here…"

"That's the nice thing," said the innkeeper happily. "Mary just works for a few hours each night at this time, washing up the dirty dishes, so it would not even interfere with your usual job."

Merlin knew he should feel just as happy as the tavern proprietor by the proposal. After all, the warlock would be able to help Gwaine, along with the sad young serving girl, and it would not cost anyone, anything. And washing dishes was a chore that he didn't even really mind… usually. It was done in a warm and friendly room, there was often a bit of food or drink to be had, and there was no heavy lifting or any other particularly exhausting element to it. And yet… and yet… it was the absolute last thing he wanted to be doing just now. All he longed for was something soothing for his throat and his head, and then his pillow and blanket.

But he looked into the man's expectant eyes, and thought of Gwaine's unnatural sadness, and knew it would be selfish of him to refuse. "That sounds like a very generous idea," he said, forcing a smile. "When would you want me to start?" He held his breath, hoping that the man would not need him for a day or two. One look at the young girl's beaming smile as she began to untie her apron soon let him know this was too much to expect.

"Well, I'm already running short on my tankards, so if you can come back straightaways after seeing your friend home, I'd be much obliged, young man," said the tavern keeper.

"Sure, I won't be too long with him," Merlin said, stifling a sigh as he slung his friend's arm over his shoulder. "Come on, Gwaine, time to get you to your bed," he added as the knight mumbled a protest, then squinted as he focussed on who was giving him orders.

Once Gwaine was standing wobblingly upright, Merlin turned to Mary with as much of a smile as he could muster. "Have a good visit with your mother," he said.

"Oh, I will!" she said excitedly, "And thank you so much for doing this for me. I can't even tell you how much I appreciate it."

Merlin's smile became more genuine on seeing her happiness. As much as he was dreading the rest of his own evening, he was glad that it would let her be with her family.

Merlin felt like he had washed a thousand tankards, mugs, plates, jugs and who knew what else before he was told he'd done enough for the night. He knew he should be grateful to the innkeeper for letting him go early, since there were still patrons at a few of the tables, but the throbbing in his head had reached a point where it was making him dizzy and nauseous. It was all he could do to stammer out a promise to return the next evening before he practically fled through the tavern doors.

The short walk out of the noisy inn did clear his head slightly, but it was so late when he finally stumbled into the physician's chambers that he wondered if he should forget about going to bed and get an early start on his chores. He was worried that if he dared to put his head to his pillow, he would not wake up until the next afternoon, and there was far too much work ahead of him to risk that. He stood uncertainly at the door for a few moments, but sudden and simultaneous pains in his head and his chest made the decision for him. He would never make it through the day if he didn't take at least some time to sleep off this illness.

The young warlock pushed himself away from the door only to stop after a few steps. The room was freezing. Merlin closed his eyes with dismay. He still had not had a chance to replenish the wood for the fire. He gave a sigh, mentally adding it to the top of his list for the morning only to sigh again when he laid eyes on his mentor. The elderly physician was asleep in his small bed, shivering, even though he had two blankets pulled up all the way to his ears.

It looked like his own bed would need to wait a bit longer. Merlin could not bear to leave Gaius in such a state. The old man did not deserve that after everything he'd done for Merlin over the last few years. So, with a look of longing up the stairway leading to his room, the weary servant crossed to the fireplace to pick up the leather wood carrier, before slowly heading back out the door.

Merlin had to look in three different storage rooms before he found a small stack of wood in the corridor near the kitchens, but at least he had not had to go back outside. Eventually the boy managed to lug it to the physician's chambers, though he could not remember wood ever weighing so much before and he'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to stop to rest on the way.

Once inside, he made his way over to the fire, set down the carrier, and took out enough wood to get the fire going. But before he had a chance to light it, the cough that he'd been fighting to suppress decided it wanted to make itself known. Merlin clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling the noise so he would not wake up Gaius, but that just seemed to make things worse. Choking and gasping, the warlock started to worry that he might pass out, but at last the cough eased enough for him to take a tentative breath, and then another.

Gaius had not stirred from his sleep, although Merlin was not sure if he was happy or disappointed about that. The young servant was trembling, and his headache had crashed down on him full force due to the episode of coughing. He was sure that Gaius would have rushed to get him a draught had he been awake, and for a moment Merlin was tempted to rouse him to ask. But no, that would not be fair to the physician. After all, Gaius was not a young man anymore, and he needed the sleep. Winter weather and a castle full of visitors was keeping the physician very busy, and Merlin was supposed to be a help and not a burden in such times.

Resigned to fighting his illness on his own, Merlin rebelliously decided that he'd done quite enough work for one night. With a flash of gold eyes, the fire was going, with another flash, a cup of cold water was in his hands and he was gulping it down to sooth his sore throat. A few short moments later and the boy was finally on his way up the stairs. He barely managed to extract his feet from his boots before he collapsed on his bed and without even bothering to take off his jacket, he wrapped his blanket as tightly as he could around his shivering frame. Another few short moments later and he was asleep.

Chapter Text

Merlin's fears about sleeping late turned out to be unfounded. The sun had barely risen when he found himself waking due to a persistent hammering in his head. The young warlock reluctantly cracked open his eyes, only to scrunch them closed again when the light caused a stab of pain that went all the way to his toes. Merlin felt horrible; shivering with cold and yet burning hot all at the same time, and every part of him ached, including his teeth and his hair. He burrowed down into his blankets in a losing battle to stop his trembling, and hoped he'd be able to fall back asleep, even if it could just be for a few more minutes.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" he heard Gaius shout down below, and it was only then that Merlin realized that the pounding that had woken him was not from his illness, but was actually coming from the door to their chambers.

Merlin groaned. If somebody was calling so early, it might be a summons for him to run some urgent errand for Arthur, or a medical emergency that he'd need to help Gaius prepare for; either way the young warlock would need to get out of his bed.

He slowly unrolled from the ball he'd curled himself into, and somehow managed to push himself up so he was sitting on his bed, though he still clutched his blanket closely around him, wondering if he could find a way to keep it there and still do his job. He gave up on the idea when it started to slip off as he leaned over to reach his boots, and he sadly set it aside.

Once on his feet, Merlin had to put a hand on the wall to keep himself upright while his head spun for a few moments. Finally steady, made his way out of his room, pausing at the top of his steps once he saw that Gaius was about to let in the visitor.

"Lord Agravaine, what has you here so early?" asked Gaius tersely. The physician did not like the man, but knew the Lord would not be calling without good reason.

"Ah, Gaius. I'm glad you are up," the Prince's uncle said, although why the man would be surprised about it with all the racket he'd made at the door was beyond Merlin. "Lord Owen of Durham has just come frantically to me with the news that his new baby has taken ill," Agravaine explained. "I sent him to back to his chambers and promised to fetch the physician."

Gaius expression softened, as he remembered seeing the tiny child in his mother's arms the day earlier. "I will come immediately, just let me collect what I will need," the physician said.

Merlin did his best to hurry down to Gaius' supply area to start gathering the particular supplies needed for treating babies.

"I have also told him that you will stay close to the infant by moving into the antechamber of their rooms for as long as he is ill," Agravaine added. When Gaius scowled, the Lord said, "You must understand that Owen is a very important guest, and the babe is his heir. Arthur must take every opportunity to cater to the man, as he has great influence in the politics of Camelot."

"Be that as it may, I do have other patients, My Lord," Gaius said gruffly. "But I will stay as long as I am able, and as long as I am not needed more urgently elsewhere."

While Agravaine nodded his agreement, Merlin's heart fell. It sounded like Gaius might be gone for a few days, and the young warlock had not yet had a chance to talk to his mentor about his own worsening symptoms. His illness did not seem as bad as the lung fever that he had survived at least twice in his childhood, but Merlin still suspected it was something more serious than the cold that had been making the rounds in the last few weeks. He wanted the physician's diagnosis before he dared to make use of any of Gaius' stronger medicines, having learned from experience that taking the wrong medication would be ineffective and could even be dangerous. He'd also learned from that same experience that self-diagnosis was not always as straightforward as he'd expected!

As the physician put the things Merlin had collected into the medical bag, the young servant thought it would not hurt to get at least a quick opinion from Gaius on his own symptoms. "Gaius, I….," he began, his voice made husky by his sore throat.

The physician looked up with a frown, and Merlin hesitated. Glancing over to see Agravaine waiting impatiently at the door, he thought of the baby's worried parents and decided that his own problems would just have to come second. After all, he could seek Gaius out once the immediate emergency was over, even if the man was staying in Lord Owen's chambers.

"I… I can do your regular rounds for you over the next few days if you like," he ended up saying. "I know who gets what, and I will come and get you if anybody has an urgent need that I can't take care of myself."

Gaius' frown deepened for a moment. He had not missed his ward's pallor, and Merlin's rasping voice had confirmed his suspicions that the boy might be coming down with something. "Are you sure, Merlin?" he asked with concern. "You seem under the weather. And don't you have extra duties already?"

"I'll manage, Gaius," Merlin said, trying to suppress a cough.

"Yes, I'm sure he will do just fine, Gaius. Now we must be seeing to Lord Owen," said Agravaine in annoyance at the delay.

"Thank you my boy," the physician answered, hefting his bag and walking towards the door. "I much appreciate the offer." Gaius wished he could take a closer look at his ward, but knew that the Prince's Uncle would not allow any more time to be wasted on the servant. "Merlin there are pastilles for sore throats in the second drawer," he called back, just before stepping into the hallway "and you should take honeyed tea if you are coming down with a cold."

Almost as soon as the door was shut, the rattling that had been growing in Merlin's throat and chest since he had woken reached a critical point, and the young warlock began to cough violently. He ended leaning over the table, using it to support him as he gasped for air . Finally the crisis passed, and he slowly got his breathing back under control, though his trembling did not seem to want to subside.

After several minutes of just sitting and enjoying breathing, Merlin stood, and made his shaky way over to put a pot of water on to boil. He was not the least bit hungry, but intended to have a cup of the honeyed tea Gaius had recommended.

After not just one, but two cups of tea, Merlin felt a little bit better and reluctantly decided that he had better face his day. He packed up the medicines he would have to deliver, crammed as many of Gaius' pastilles as he could into the remaining space in his bag, and headed to the armoury to collect the mail coat that he had polished so carefully the night before.

To the young servant's surprise, Arthur was already up and dressed, and was standing at his desk talking in subdued tones to a knight who must have just arrived since the man was still in the process of pulling off his gloves.

Arthur motioned Merlin to come over and help him into his armour, but did not stop his conversation with the grey-haired visitor.

"Has there been word of casualties?" the Prince was asking.

"Fortunately there were none Sire," the man answered. "Most of the people were together in the Village Hall at some sort of gathering to prepare for Yule."

"Well, we may be thankful for that," said Arthur with relief.

"It was a mixed blessing, Sire," said the knight. "The people are safe, and certainly that is the main concern. However, as they were all together at the other side of the town, it took some time before anyone noticed the fire, and by then many homes were completely destroyed, and many others badly damaged."

Arthur nodded grimly. "And what of the state of their provisions?" he asked.

The knight scowled, "The granary and both storage buildings were burned to the ground. A few things were salvaged, but not enough to supply the village for more than a few days."

Merlin paused in his tying of the Prince's belt and looked up sharply at the news, his illness forgotten for the moment in sympathy with the townspeople. He well remembered what it was like to be short on supplies in the winter.

"Both buildings?" Arthur asked, surprised.

"Yes, and the stock of firewood too," answered the knight. "We'd warned the village council in the past about the danger of keeping all of their provisions stored so close together and tried to impress upon them that a disaster such as this could have dire consequences. Unfortunately, they did not agree and decided that it was easier to protect their supplies from bandits this way."

"A very hard way to learn that lesson," said Arthur with a frown.

"Yes, Sire. My patrol happened to be near and saw the smoke. We were able to help put out the fire and get the homeless settled temporarily, but Sir Henry sent me back to Camelot at first light to request some assistance. The village is in immediate need of food supplies and firewood, and shelter for the displaced, of course."

The Prince nodded, "I will organize a group of knights to accompany you back, Sir Morris," he said. "They can assess the damage, and provide an escort for any who wish to take refuge in Camelot for the rest of the winter, since I doubt the reconstruction will be able to start until the springtime. Do you have an idea yet on their number?"

"Many have already been offered places with family and friends, but there were about fifty who had no lodgings and stayed in the Village Hall last night, Sire," the knight answered. "But the space is small and not well suited to children. I believe many will wish to make the journey. It is not far."

Arthur nodded and turned to his manservant. "Merlin, I will need to you go to the Marshal and have him prepare as many packhorses as possible with whatever provisions can be gathered by noon. The roads are too muddy for carts, so I believe the horses will be faster."

"Yes Sire," the servant said after clearing his throat.

"And then go to the Steward and tell him to find lodging for the villagers," the Prince added. "You may tell him that I will agree to hold my dinner for the Round Table in the Great Hall, so he is free to use the Small as he sees fit."

"Right away, Sire," Merlin rasped. "Arthur, I need to do Gaius' rounds today, so it may be a while before I can get back here. Will you need anything before I head out?"

Arthur frowned at hearing his servant's husky voice. It seemed like the early night had not improved the boy's cold very much. He took in Merlin's pale face, and noticed the circles under his eyes with a momentary concern, but decided that it could not be anything very serious, or surely the physician would not have let the boy take over his rounds.

"I'm pretty sure I can manage," Arthur answered lightly. "Merlin, in any case I am going to assign you to help the Steward prepare for the refugees, so you needn't attend me before supper."

At the servant's apparent reluctance the Prince added, "I could ask Gwen to do it, but I've given her a few days off before Yule as a thank you for everything she does for me… well, for everyone around here, really. Caring for my father is not easy and I wanted her to have a break."

Merlin sighed. He did want to help the refugees, it was just that he did not know how useful he would be hampered by his cough and fever. He was also supposed to be helping to get the Great Hall ready for the Yule feast. But he did not want to ruin his friend's rare vacation, so he said, "No, don't bother Gwen. Of course I'll do it, as long as I can also take care of Gaius' deliveries."

"Good. I'll see you at supper then," Arthur said as Merlin headed towards the door. "And if you are still busy with the Steward at that time, just sent word. I'm sure I can make do for one night. After all, it is for the wellbeing of my people."

Chapter Text

Merlin walked slowly down the hallway after he left the Prince's chambers. The young warlock was trying to work out what he should do first. Ordinarily, he would have been able to reason it out in seconds, but this morning his brain just did not seem to want to process his thoughts. He finally stopped and leaned against the wall, scowling with his frustration at not yet having his plan in place. The headache that seemed to be a permanent fixture, and the aching throat and heaviness in his chest that had returned now that his tea had worn off, were not helping matters.

Giving his head a tiny shake, he finally figured out the obvious - that it was best to drop by the Steward's office first to deliver Arthur's message and find out if he had any instructions for the Marshal. He'd see the Marshall next, and since that meant Merlin would already be at the stables, he could then borrow a horse to do Gaius' rounds instead of walking like he usually did. Then, deliveries done, he would be able to devote the rest of his day to whatever the Steward asked of him.

Merlin sighed. The plan was made and the tasks so far were simple enough, so why did it feel like the effort needed to get started was akin to climbing the highest mountain in the Five Kingdoms? In the snow? During a blizzard? The young servant grimaced and forced himself forward, telling himself he was acting like whining child to even think of complaining just because he had a sniffle. Especially when there were people on their way who were now homeless.

Eventually Merlin arrived at the Steward's office, knocking hesitantly to request entry. Even after so many years as the Prince's personal manservant and though he was arguably the most powerful person in the kingdom, the young warlock still felt a certain intimidation whenever he needed to enter the room.

"Come!" boomed a voice from within.

Merlin pushed open the door to find the Steward seated at his desk, looking over the list of assignments he'd drawn up to make the Great Hall ready for the Yule feast to be held in two days. Even from where he stood near the door, the young servant could see his name next to many of the carefully written tasks.

"So, you have finally decided to make an appearance, boy," the Steward said irritably. "I certainly hope you are ready to get to work; you have a lot to do today."

Merlin narrowed his eyes in anger. Although his mind was fuzzy, he was quite sure he was not late, neither did he remember the Steward asking him to arrive early. "Actually, I…," Merlin sputtered before the man cut him off.

"If you have come to tell me you are unwell and cannot perform your duties, you had better think again," the Steward spat. "I am already down to half of my staff due to this cold that everyone had decided to catch at the same time, and this idiocy of granting time off to serving staff at a holiday time."

Merlin gulped. The Steward would definitely not like any of what the young warlock had to tell him. "No, I…" Merlin tried again, only to begin coughing."

On seeing that the boy really did seem to be ill, the Steward said more kindly, "Sit down and catch your breath, boy." Once he had Merlin safely seated with a cup of water in his hands, and was sure that the servant had stopped coughing, the man sighed and said, "Forgive me for snapping at you. I am sorry you are not feeling well, Merlin, but if you do have it in you to carry out your duties, I would be much obliged. I find myself sorely short on able hands and really cannot afford to lose any more."

"I'm fine to work," Merlin said a touch uncertainly, while trying to hide his trembling hands. "I did not come to tell you otherwise, I came to bring you a message from Arthur." At the Steward's gesture to continue, Merlin explained the situation with the refugees who would be arriving before evening.

"That does put a wrinkle in my plans," the Steward admitted, although with much less anger than Merlin had expected. "But we must do what we can. You say that Arthur will allow me to move his dinner party to the Great Hall?"

"Yes, that's what he told me," Merlin answered.

"Good," said the Steward leaning back in his chair as he thought through his strategy. "We shall move all of the tables and chairs from the Small to the Great Hall immediately," he decided. "Some dividing screens will do nicely to give the illusion of a more intimate space for Arthur's party tomorrow, and they may be easily removed for the Yule feast the next day."

Merlin nodded slowly. Normally he would have leapt to his feet, ready to start at the very first hint of a plan, but today he was content to stay in his seat a bit longer.

"So tomorrow we shall prepare the Great Hall for both feasts," the Steward explained. "The results may not be as impressive as I had intended, but it will save us quite a bit of time, especially since the tables will already be in place and there will only be the one room to decorate."

Merlin shivered, and tried to discreetly pull his jacket a little tighter around him, only half-listening as the Steward solidified his plans.

"Now… the refugees…. We had better expect that most will need to settle in the Small Hall until after Yule; it will be difficult to find boarding for everyone until after holiday visitors and such have gone."

He paused for a moment in thought. "We shall need to bring in straw mattresses and blankets, perhaps some playthings for the displaced children…. clothing…." droned the Steward before adding, "There is a store room in that hallway that we shall clear out. Our guests may use the shelves to hold their belongings, though I expect they will bring little enough."

Looking up at the young servant, the Steward said, "As for the provisions for the village, you may tell the Marshal that they can be picked up at noon in the hallway by the servant's entry near the kitchens. We should have collected enough by then to load a dozen pack horses."

Now that he had been given his instructions, Merlin had no more excuse to stay in his seat, so he rose to leave, promising to return as soon as he'd finished delivering the medicines he had in his pouch.

After Merlin had delivered his message to the Marshal, the man had thanked him and hurried off to arrange the transport, leaving Merlin free to get a horse for his own needs. The young servant chose the tack he wanted to use, and walked over to the stall of his favourite mare. He drew some comfort from her solid presence, enjoying the feel of her warm breath on his neck and the way she nuzzled his hair in greeting. He closed his eyes and leaned against her for a moment, eventually convincing himself to reach up and put the saddle on her back, even though it seemed unnaturally heavy for some reason. Just as he was tightening the girth, he heard the stable doors squeak open.

"Merlin, are you there?" someone called hesitantly. Someone that sounded an awful lot like Lancelot.

Startled, Merlin moved deeper into the stall, uncertain if he wanted Lancelot to know if he was there or not. He was not exactly sure why he didn't want to talk to the knight... actually, he realized, he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He just wanted to get finished with Gaius' rounds and get back into the warmth of the castle, but since that did not seem very fair to his friend, he finally called out, "In here," though he did not move from where he stood.

The warlock heard the heavy tread and metallic clink of the lightly armoured knight approaching, until at last, Lancelot peered into the stall.

"Ah, I'm so glad I found you!" the dark haired knight said, trying to make out his friend through the shadows.

"Yes, here I am!" said Merlin, trying his best to sound cheerful. "Why were you looking?"

Lancelot shifted from one foot to the next, and finally said, "Yes. Well, it's…. actually Merlin, I was hoping you could do me a favour…"

Merlin sighed and then berated himself for thinking it seemed that everyone needed a favour these days.

"I don't suppose you could…. No, forget I asked, you've probably got a thousand things…." stammered the young knight.

Merlin's brow crinkled in confusion. "Lancelot, what are you talking about? You didn't ask me anything…" the warlock said.

"Didn't I? Oh, well it's just that….." Lancelot managed before he trailed off again.

Just then the stable doors opened again, and Gwaine stuck his head through, calling irritably, "Lancelot,you need to come now, the group is almost ready to move out!"

The dark haired knight grimaced and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

Merlin did not know what to think. Lancelot was not usually so … indecisive. Obviously there was something wrong and it was probably personal, for the man was not injured and had seemed in good spirits when Merlin had passed near the training field earlier.

"You're starting to frighten me; what is the problem? Can I help somehow?" the young warlock asked. He caught himself hoping not, and immediately felt guilty, but the truth was he was already exhausted, and he was not sure how much help he would really be able to give.

Lancelot glanced back towards Gwaine who was gesturing impatiently for him to get moving.

"Ye-es, actually there is something…, but only if you are going that way already. And if you are sure it won't make you late with your other duties…," he said looking intently at the young warlock.

Merlin could not stop the groan of exasperation when Lancelot paused again. "I need to know what it is first," he said trying to prompt the man. The young warlock's headache was getting worse and he did not feel capable of much more conversation, even with his best friend.

The dark haired knight took yet another look towards Gwaine, "I'm coming, I just need to ask Merlin something first," he called.

"Is that who you are talking to?" the usually roguish knight asked. "Hello Merlin," he directed at the warlock before saying, "You'll need to make it fast, Lancelot. We need to leave."

"Don't worry about Gwaine," said Merlin quietly when he saw Lancelot scowling. "He's still feeling guilty about being ambushed. I'm sure he'll get his good-humour back in a few days."

The knight's eyes softened in understanding. He had not had much chance to talk to his fun-loving comrade over the past week, and had not known that Gwaine had taken his failed patrol so hard.

It seemed that thinking about his friend had finally caused Lancelot to focus on his own problem. "It's my own fault really," he said, turning back to the young warlock. "I left things too late."

Merlin was still confused, so Lancelot said, "It's Gerard," referring to the squire that Arthur had recently assigned to him. The Prince wanted the young knight to practice having people serving under him, since he believed that Lancelot had the ability to become one of Camelot's best military commanders.

"Arthur asked me to send him home to have a few days with his family at Yule," the knight continued.

Merlin was not surprised to hear this. Ever since Arthur had become regent just over a year ago, he had done his best to ensure that privileges like time off at holidays were provided to everyone who could be spared for a few days, and not just reserved for the highest ranking nobles. The servant was not sure why it was a problem for his friend, but he dearly hoped that Lancelot did not want him to fill in as a squire.

"He leaves at dawn tomorrow, but I won't have a chance to collect the scabbard I had made for him before then. I was going to do it today, but now Arthur has asked me to ride out to a village that has just had a fire….," the knight trailed off.

Merlin closed his eyes briefly. It was quite obvious what help Lancelot needed, but the young warlock just didn't know if he had enough strength to do it. He opened his eyes again, and looking at the hopeful face of the young knight, knew that he would have to find a way, for he could not refuse his friend. "Sure, I will fetch it for you," he said, trying his best to hide his sigh. After all, it was the least he could do, knowing that Lancelot was going out to help a group of people who had just lost everything.

"Now, you had better catch up to Gwaine," the warlock added as brightly as he could, having noticed that Lancelot looked uncertain about whether he should have asked this favour.

The knight smiled, glad that he would able gift his squire after all. "Thank you Merlin," he called as he rushed after his waiting comrade.

Lancelot never saw the look of resignation on his friend's face as the servant wearily led his horse from its stall.

Chapter Text

It turned out that the favour for Lancelot did not require much extra work since the Scabbard Maker's workshop was on a street that Merlin had to ride down anyway. Unfortunately, that was only because his intended route was blocked due to an overturned cartload of pigs! The animals were running everywhere, squealing and panicking, with people of all ages scrambling to catch them. The street had wisely been barricaded with barrels, and someone had asked Merlin if he'd mind waiting.

The young warlock looked over the barrels at the chaos, and although on any other day he'd likely have laughingly joined in to help collect the creatures, today the sight almost overwhelmed him. He hunched over in his saddle, trying to stop the shivering from his rising fever, and pulled his jacket more closely around him, trying to decide what he should do. When it became obvious that he'd be stuck there for quite some time, he sadly turned his horse and began looking for a new route.

Even with the unexpected detour, Merlin still managed to return from town by midmorning. He winced as he dismounted from his horse, grateful when one of the stable boys hurried over and offered to care for her. He was anxious to get out of the dusty stables; his throat was raw from coughing, and his head was pounding so much that he had to squint and shade his eyes even against the dim sunlight.

The young servant dragged himself up the castle steps, wondering how he would ever make it through to the end of the day. For a moment he considered taking to his bed for a few hours, but discarded the thought almost immediately. Too many people were depending on him. So, hitching his bag up a little higher on his shoulder, and taking a better grip of the wrapped scabbard he had collected for Lancelot, he headed into the castle to do his last deliveries.

It was still well before midday when Merlin handed the last bottle in his pouch to a wizened old knight who lived in a room on the top floor of the noble's wing. As soon as the door had closed, leaving Merlin alone in the hallway, the warlock leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes in relief, not quite ready to face the stairs down to the lower levels of the castle. He dearly wished he could rest there for a year or two.

He had just convinced himself to move when he heard Elyan call, 'Merlin, is that you?' from the somewhere near the stairs.

The young warlock opened his eyes to see Percival and Elyan coming towards him, their arms filled with blankets.

"Ye-," he began, paused to clear his throat and answered, "Yes….?" not wanting to speak any more than he had to.

"I didn't know you were back," said Percival. "The Steward said you were out doing something for Gaius."

"I just got back a little while ago," Merlin said softly.

"He's got us going door to door collecting things for Westmoor," said Elyan, nodding at the blankets he was carrying. "Did you hear about the big fire there?"

"Yes, I'm just on my way to help set up the Small Hall for the refugees, now that I'm finished here," Merlin said, trying to hide the hoarseness in his voice.

He must have been only partially successful, judging by the slight frown of concern that Percival fixed him on him. But before the large knight could ask if he was all right, Elyan said, "We'd better keep going. We need to have everything collected, stacked and ready to be packed on the horses by the noon bell."

"That doesn't seem a job for knights," said Merlin with surprise.

Elyan chuckled for a moment before saying more seriously, "I suppose not, but I have friends in the village, so when Arthur asked for volunteers I was happy to lend a hand."

"And it seemed as good a way as any to spend the day," added Percival, though Merlin guessed that the knight would have jumped at the chance to help people in need.

"We will probably see you later," said Elyan. "There are things being collected for the refugees too, so we will be in and out of the Small Hall most of the day."

Merlin watched as the two knights headed further down the hallway in their quest for donations before he sighed and started down the stairs towards his own next task.

Rather than go straight to the Small Hall, Merlin decided to detour first to his quarters to drop off the scabbard and his medical bag. He put the scabbard down on the table by the window in his small room, and hung his medical bag on its hook by his door. With a last longing look at the bed that he would not be able to rest in for many hours yet, he went back downstairs to the main floor.

He had intended to leave immediately, but his eyes caught sight of the tea on the table where he'd left it that morning, sitting in the open ceramic jug and just waiting to be measured out and brewed. All of a sudden the pain in his head and throat seemed unbearable, and he decided he really did need to make a pot.

While the tea steeped, he put a large dollop of honey in the bottom of his cup, surprised to see that his hands were shaking as he held the spoon.

Merlin was still not hungry, but since he had not eaten at the beginning of the day, he thought it would be a good idea to take some bread and a bit of cheese with his tea. He only managed to force down half a slice of each before his sore throat objected, but the tea was heavenly; sweet and soothing, and it even eased his headache a little bit.

Finally, although he did not feel very much better, he felt enough of an improvement to persuade himself that it was time to get back to work.

He made a stop at Gaius' workbench and stashed as many throat pastilles as he could carry into his pockets before he headed to the door and exited from the chambers.

He had not gone more than ten paces when Elyan and Percival came around the corner.

"Merlin, I'm glad we caught you," said Elyan.

"What's the matter, do you need Gaius?" asked Merlin. "He's not here right now."

Percival said, "No, not Gaius, or… well…. We can ask you since Gaius is not here."

Merlin tried to hide his irritation at being sidetracked. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, other than that his mind was too muddled today to concentrate on more than one task. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked evenly.

"We were hoping you had some firewood we could take," answered the large knight. "We are a little short, and the Marshal wants to send out the horses within the half-hour, so we don't have time to go all the way to the woodpile to collect more."

Merlin thought about the hard-won pile of wood he had procured the night before, and almost said 'no', but then he decided that the people of Westmoor needed the wood even more than he did. Anyway, he could get more, though it would mean making a trip to the woodpile at some point before he went to bed.

"Of course," he said finally. As he started to walk down the hall he added, "Take whatever we've got there. Just be sure to close the door properly when you leave. I'm on my way to help the Steward."

Once Merlin arrived in the Small Hall, he was relieved to see that all of the tables and chairs destined for Arthur's two feasts had already been removed. A small man was busy laying out some thin mattresses on the far side of the room so, not seeing the Steward, Merlin walked toward him.

The young man straightened when he saw Merlin and said, "Ah, you are finally here. I was beginning to think I would have to do all of the setting up by myself."

Merlin frowned, "George, the Steward knew I would be here only by late morning," he countered.

George gave a sniff but didn't try to argue. Instead he pointed to a pile of about ten mattresses laid near the door. "You can start by placing those in rows, using exactly the same spacing as I've done for the others," he ordered. "They must not be set too far apart, since some of the knights are going to be bringing in at least thirty more, and they all need to be fit in."

Merlin considered retorting that he was quite capable of using his own judgement to work out a proper placement, but talking just seemed like too much trouble. Not only that, it was possible that his judgement would not be up to the task today after all, so he simply nodded his understanding to George, went over to the pile and began to do as he'd been ordered.

Luckily the mattresses were not too heavy, but the work of getting them aligned to George's satisfaction soon started to negate any positive effects from the tea he'd had not that long ago. By the time Elyan and Percival came in bringing another stack, Merlin was short of breath and the painful pounding in his head had come back worse than ever.

The young warlock could not even bring himself to greet his friends at the door, and left it to George to do all the talking while he continued to work quietly on the mattresses at the other end of the room.

"The horses have just gone, and so the things we gather door-to-door from now on will be for the refugees," he heard Elyan say. "Where do you want us to put them?"

"Leave them out in the hallway," George answered. The shiver of distaste could be heard even in his voice when he added, "That way we can carefully plan where things go, and not have the room cluttered with all sorts of piles of whatever you manage to collect.

Percival could not help smiling at the man's attitude. "I can see how that would be very disturbing," he said, although Merlin was certain George did not understand the sarcasm.

"We have one more delivery of mattresses for you after this," Elyan said, gesturing to the stack that Merlin was just starting to place. "We'll be back with it in a few minutes."

When it appeared that his friend was not going to look up, Percival frowned in concern and called, "Goodbye Merlin." The big knight was reassured when he got a wave and a small smile in return.

In spite of, or maybe because of, how poorly he was feeling, Merlin found working with George surprisingly easy. The mousy young man was silent and very well-organized.

"Merlin, this would be the most efficient time for me to take my lunch," George announced once they'd finished placing the last mattress and before Percival and Elyan had started to bring the additional supplies. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes, I did before I came here," said Merlin. "So I'll just keep on working while you are out, then."

George's eyes widened in what may have been alarm when he realized this could leave Merlin the freedom to do things his own way. To avoid any unwelcome surprises, the fussy servant decided it would be better to assign the warlock some specific tasks. "Yes, of course," he said. "The next things we shall need to do are to create a small play area for the children and a sitting area for the adults. Perhaps you could start work on those."

Merlin nodded his agreement with the plan, and headed towards the space in front of the windows that had been left free of mattresses, while George sent a last look of apprehension his way before leaving the room.

A few chairs and small tables had been left in the room for the use of the refugees, so Merlin began to move them around so they would be suitable for both small groups and larger ones.

He only got about half of the tables set up when the exertions of the day caught up to him. His headache had been back for a while, and he knew his fever was climbing judging by the trembling that he was having more and more trouble controlling. The worst was that he felt so tired, like every small thing was suddenly beyond his capability.

He decided it would not hurt to rest for just a few minutes; then he'd be able to get back to work, he was sure of it. So, he let himself sink to the floor with his back against the wall, drawing his knees up for comfort.

In the end, it must have been a little bit too comfortable, for Merlin couldn't help himself and nodded off to sleep where he sat.

About an hour later, George stood looking down at Merlin, who was slumped against the wall, fast asleep.

"George, leave him," called the Steward, who had entered the room, arms full of blankets, just as George had been about to give the sleeping warlock a less than gentle prodding with his foot.

"But…" protested the fastidious young servant.

The Steward looked in concern at Merlin, showing a fondness that the warlock would have been extremely surprised to see. "He's ill... Should not be here at all, I fear, but he is doing the best he can."

When George seemed skeptical, the Steward said, "I know that at times the quality of his work and the way he talks to the Prince bother you. I've seen it in your face."

George narrowed his eyes and spat, "Yes, well, there are proper ways to do things, and it is bad for the reputation of the Camelot Household when he so blatantly disregards them, especially at times like this when we've so many visitors. Sleeping on the job; it just does not seem right."

"I understand, my boy," the Steward said patiently, "But over the years I have learned that there is nobody less lazy than this young man, and more importantly, nobody, noble or common, who is more loyal to the Prince and to Camelot. If he is asleep, it means he needs it."

When George still scowled, the Steward added, "You and I may ensure that the castle is at its best, but young Merlin ensures that Prince Arthur is at his best, and I don't just mean the shine on his armour, I mean Arthur the man."

George kept his frown, but looked over towards the sleeping warlock with a new interest. "But how?…" he asked, "I mean…. he's just so … impudent and disrespectful…."

The Steward chuckled, "I'm not really sure. But I believe there are layers and depths to the boy that have played no small part in turning our Prince into a King we will be very proud of. I don't question it; I've learned to let Merlin do things his own way. If Prince Arthur had wanted it otherwise, he would have sacked the boy long ago, or sent him to me to be retrained."

George nodded, still looking at the warlock. He was not entirely convinced the Steward was right, but his disdain for the other young servant had lessened a notch.

The Steward pushed the blankets he'd been holding into George's arms, frowned and reached back to take one from the top of the pile. "So," he said to George while bending to lay the blanket over Merlin's shoulders, "leave him to sleep until Sirs Percival and Elyan return, which should be very shortly."

Straightening again, he added, "I am very pleased by the progress we've made here, my boy."

George looked up in surprise at the complement.

"Once you have taken care of those blankets, you have my permission to fetch a pot of tea. I only ask that when Merlin wakes, you ensure that he also takes a cup," said the Steward.

Merlin woke with a start when he heard several voices talking somewhere nearby.

The sleep had done some good, since the young warlock's headache had subsided to a twinge, and he did not feel any immediate need to cough. To his surprise, a blanket slipped down from his shoulders as he began to shift around a bit.

"Ah, you are awake," said George.

"Uh… yeah," said Merlin with stretch and a last yawn. "I'm sorry for falling asleep like that. I worked late yesterday and I guess it just caught up to me," he explained, climbing to his feet.

"Steward said to let you rest," George said. "He also said you were not allowed back to work until after you had some of that tea," he added, pointing over to where Percival was pouring a cup at one of the tables Merlin had set up earlier.

The warlock walked over and gratefully accepted the cup from the large knight, closing his eyes with pleasure when he began to sip the hot, soothing drink.

"Feeling better now, Merlin?" asked Elyan, taking a sip of his own tea.

Merlin nodded, "Much," he said, taking another swallow. He was still confused about why they were all relaxing with a pot of tea when there were refugees on the way, but he was not about to complain.

Percival and Elyan shared a smile. Although they had not admitted it to each other, they'd both been worried by how subdued Merlin had seemed that day, and coming into the room to find him asleep had only made their fears grow. They'd lingered over their tea, hoping he would awaken, and when they heard him explain to George about working late they'd been relieved to hear a reasonable explanation for his behaviour.

Their worries set aside for the time being, the two knights quickly finished the last drops of their tea and excused themselves to go back to their collecting.

George had long finished his own drink, and was busy refolding some blankets into perfect rectangles, placing one on each mattress, exactly at its end. As he worked, he watched Merlin from the corner of his eye. Once the dark-haired servant had emptied his cup, George counted to precisely thirty and only then began to assign the warlock his next task.

"Merlin, now that you are finished your tea, would you take care of cleaning out the storeroom across the hall so the refugees may use it for their own needs? I can finish up in here," he said.

"Yes, of course," Merlin agreed. The warlock was feeling better than he had since he'd returned from the patrol the day previously, although he was doubtful the feeling would last very long.

The rest of the afternoon seemed to drag on forever for the young servant. As he expected, the relief he'd had from the tea and sleep was short-lived. By the time he finished up in the storeroom, his headache and sore throat were worse than ever, and he was trembling from his rising fever.

He staggered out of the storeroom hoping he could have a bit of time to rest, only to see the first of the refugees being lead down the hallway by Lancelot. The knight gave Merlin a smile, but could not stop to talk.

Soon the young servant found himself back in the storeroom stacking up all manner of boxes, bags, sacks, pails and other assorted containers full of the belongings of their guests. He was just stowing the last bag when the Steward came into the room.

"I've come to tell you that our work here is done for today," the Steward said. "You may leave once you've finished putting these things away."

Merlin gave a small tired smile and a nod. "I've just finished," he said quietly.

"Good," the Steward acknowledged. "And tomorrow we shall need to prepare the Great Hall for the Yule feasts, so that is where I will need you."

"Yes Sir, I'll be there," Merlin promised.

The Steward turned to leave, but then turned back, "Oh, and Merlin," he said. "Prince Arthur sent a message to tell you that you need not bring him supper tonight. He asks instead that you attend to Sir Leon, though you need not stay late. Something about it being a gift and the least the Prince can do when one of his men is not feeling his best. He will see you tomorrow at lunch."

Merlin closed his eyes in annoyance for a moment. The young servant had intended to ask Arthur if he could leave right after bringing the Prince his supper. He'd hoped to grab a bit of sleep before he had to go over to the tavern for the promised dishwashing

"Of course. I… I'll see to it," Merlin said, managing to withhold his sigh until after the Steward had left the room.

He was ashamed to admit it, but Merlin had hoped that once he reached Sir Leon's chambers and offered his services, the knight would have seen how ill he was and send him home. That was the main reason the young warlock had decided to go to Leon's chambers before he went to his own. Unfortunately, the servant arrived carrying a tray of dinner, and entered the room only to find it was empty.

Disappointed, Merlin set Leon's dinner down on the desk and looked about the room wondering when the knight would be back, and what he would most want Merlin to take care of. He could not have intended to be away for very long, since the fire was still burning brightly.

The young warlock's eyes ran over the bath in the corner. He shuddered, hoping that Sir Leon would not want to use it tonight. The young servant knew he was being selfish; after all Leon was injured, but Merlin just could not imagine himself making the many trips needed for the water. Suddenly he was glad that he was not attending Arthur, for surely the Prince would have expected a bath.

Feeling a bit silly that about wanting to stay on side of the room furthest from the bath, Merlin set about picking up the laundry, though there was not much since Sir Leon had left most of it in the basket made for the purpose. He then swept the floor and closed the drapes, and when the knight still made no appearance he turned down the bedsheets, picked up the basket of laundry and the few dirty dishes, and decided that he'd done enough.

As he headed back to his chambers after dropping off the laundry and dishes, Merlin couldn't help feeling guilty. He knew that Arthur would have been expecting him to at least wait until Leon had returned, but the young servant's head was pounding so hard that he could barely think anymore.

Merlin practically ran back to his chambers, flinging the door open in relief once he'd arrived. He could not even remember if he'd passed anyone by on the way.

As soon as he entered the room, he looked around and, with a pang of disappointment that left him feeling like a small child, he realized that Gaius had not yet returned. Although he was not really surprised, the young servant sat down heavily in his usual seat at the table fighting tears of weariness and pain. Before long he leaned over and put his head down on his crossed arms, closed his eyes and rested right where he sat.

Merlin felt a bit better for a while, at least when he didn't try to move. But his day's obligations were not finished yet so he knew he could not stay that way for long.

He forced himself to sit back up, only to have a wave of dizziness hit him. Merlin squeezed his eyes closed until it passed, but almost as soon as he'd recovered, the flames in his throat manifested into coughing.

Eventually the young warlock got that under control too, but he knew that he would never be able to even reach the tavern, let alone work, while in his current state. Merlin wished again that he could talk to Gaius and considered going to find him, but he did not really have time and in any case he was not all that sure he'd even be able to make it that far. Reluctantly, he decided that he'd have to take his treatment into his own hands.

The young servant managed to get to his feet and was able to put the water on to boil for tea. Then he went over to Gaius' worktable and found the potion that the physician generally prescribed for headaches, another one for coughs and a third to reduce fever. None of the remedies was very strong – each only alleviated the symptoms and did not serve to cure the illness - but they would be better than nothing. Merlin hoped so, anyway. If they were not…. well… the boy might have to resort to magic. He was beginning to think that there might be no other way for him to keep going.

Gaius had taught him a spell that did essentially the same thing as the potions he'd decided to take, but in practically the same breath had warned him never to use it for self-treatment. The spell did not offer a cure, and it took the sorcerer a large amount of energy to cast; the only benefit was that for a few hours, the ill person felt almost symptom free.

However a price was paid once the spell wore off, since the patient had almost certainly used up the energy that their body should have been putting towards healing. If the patient was also the spell caster… but Merlin did not want to think about that. He was sure it would not be so bad; after all, he was not that ill, and he was a very powerful sorcerer. Right? Still, the young warlock decided to use it only as a last resort.

Once he'd taken the potions and finished a full pot of honeyed tea, Merlin was optimistic that he would not need to resort to the spell, at least not for now. He felt well enough that he was even able to eat a full bowl of soup and two pieces of bread with cheese.

Unfortunately, his cooking used up the little bit of wood that Elyan and Percival had left. Merlin had originally intended to go to the woodpile after his dinner, but since he only had about an hour before he needed to go to the tavern, the young servant decided his time would be better spent napping. So, he borrowed Gaius' two blankets and added them to his own, and snuggling down in his small bed Merlin quickly fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Merlin woke up quite refreshed from the short nap he'd taken to prepare for his long evening ahead and was very relieved to find that the draughts he'd taken earlier were still working.

He sat up carefully, but there was no sign of dizziness nor did his chest feel as tight as it had earlier. He still had a touch of headache, and was perhaps the slightest bit feverish, but all in all he felt much better than he'd expected.

Once he got downstairs, Merlin made himself one last pot of honeyed tea, though he had to use magic to heat the water since there was no wood left to rekindle the fire. After he'd finished every drop, he pocketed a bottle of Gaius' headache potion, took another handful of the throat pastilles and headed out into the night.

Merlin's night at the tavern progressed reasonably well. He was kept so busy that he didn't have much time to dwell on his aches and pains, and the remedies he'd taken continued to work until he was dismissed for the night. By that point his head was starting to throb again, but though the young servant thought about taking extra bottle of pain reliever he'd brought with him, he decided that he could put it off until he reached his quarters.

He hurried home through an icy drizzle that had started a few hours earlier, only to walk into a very cold and dark room. Groaning in frustration, Merlin realized that he had forgotten again to restock the wood, but he decided that there was no way he was about to go back out and fetch any in the rain.

Exhausted, wet, cold, ill and now angry as well, the young warlock strode over to the table and flung himself into his chair. With a single intense flash of his eyes he dried his clothes, lit the wall sconces, heated the water for some tea and floated a dose each of headache, fever and cough potions over to the table.

Once Merlin had taken the medicines and washed them down with a cup of hot tea, he felt much better. The young servant only hoped that taking the potions before his symptoms had gotten overly bad again would offset any negative effects from his short trip outside in the rain.

He soon headed up to his bed, and wrapping himself up in his borrowed blankets, the warlock was fast asleep moments later.

It did not take Merlin very long the next morning to realize that the rain from the night before had done him no good. His coughing woke him well before the sun had even risen, but that didn't bother him half as much as the aching that seemed to have taken over his body. The pain in his legs and back was almost agonizing, and even though he shifted and twisted, nothing seemed to help. Any position that eased the pain in his limbs just seemed to trigger the coughing.

Merlin finally rolled out of bed in defeat. He dreaded the thought that he would have to go all the way downstairs, but he saw no other choice. He needed to take another dose of each of the medicines or he'd never get back to sleep. He only hoped he could find some stronger pain reliever while he was down there.

A few minutes later, and once he was sure the remedies were starting to work, the young warlock returned to his bed. Merlin rolled himself as tightly as he could in his blankets, but it took a long time before he was able to slip back into sleep.

The dim light of the rainy morning woke him several hours later, and with a groan Merlin opened his eyes. His aching was even worse than before, and he was now trembling with fever to go along with it.

The ailing warlock pulled his blankets closer and wondered if he should just stay in his bed all day and let other people worry about feasts and refugees and dishes and such for once. He even allowed himself to drift almost to sleep again only to suddenly recall how shorthanded the Steward was. The thought was enough to startle him back awake, and with alarm he suddenly realized how late it was and that the man was probably angrily waiting for him.

He sat up quickly – too quickly as it turned out, and the room spun sickeningly for what seemed like an age before it stabilized. Merlin wondered how he would ever manage to even get all the way to the Great Hall in this state, let alone help with the preparations for the feast. He was not sure he could even get out of bed.

"Gaius," he called out hoarsely, hoping that by some miracle the physician had come home and could bring him something to relieve his symptoms.

He heard only silence, not that he had really expected anything different.

"Gaius?" he called again, not ready to give up. "Anybody?" But there was still no answer.

Merlin brushed the beginnings of tears out of his eyes as he thought frantically for a way to get started on his day. He thought about using his magic to transport the bottles of medicine that he'd put on the table earlier, but discarded the idea. Even though he did not hear anyone down below, the risk of discovery was just too great.

Suddenly he remembered the symptom-masking spell that Gaius had taught him. He tried to discard that idea too, the physician's warning ringing clearly in his aching head, but it would just not go away.

Perhaps if he just used the tiniest thread of magic, Merlin reasoned.

Yes.

He would use just enough to let him get up, dressed and downstairs to where he could take the potions. That should hold him through the Yule preparations, and at lunchtime he could tell Arthur he was ill. The Prince would surely grant him a few hours of time off to rest and to find Gaius and no doubt the physician would have a healing draught that would leave Merlin feeling much better by the time he needed to attend the Prince at the evening's Round Table dinner.

Heaving a sigh of relief at having a plan, and not seeing any other choice, the young warlock concentrated as best he could, held out his hand in order to cast the masking spell, and whispered the words of the Old Religion.

Instantly his aches were gone and his feverish shivers stopped, although the spell had not completely eliminated his headache. Still, the effect was much better than Merlin had hoped, and with a smile he rose from his bed and a short time later he was on his way to the Great Hall.

Merlin was very pleased by the time he finished up with the preparations for both the Round Table dinner and the Yule Feast. The combination of spell and potions had indeed lasted right through the morning, and the young servant had been able to contribute fully to the efforts.

He had been paired up with George again and the two of them, together with the occasional help from some of the other servants that had been in and out bringing dishes and decorations, had finished up everything long before the noon bell. George had even given Merlin what looked to be a smile when he apparently approved of the warlock's precision in aligning the forks and knives with the plates and napkins.

"There, I think that does it," said George, stepping back from where he'd placed a large candelabrum in the centre of the dining table. "I think I may even have enough time to get to the kitchen and polish the brass pot I was hoping to use for flowers. I thought I would only be able to have it ready for the feast tomorrow but I may yet manage it for tonight!" he added excitedly.

"And I will be able to finish Gaius' rounds before I need to bring Ar... Prince Arthur his lunch," said Merlin with relief. The warlock had packed the needed bottles into his pouch just before leaving his chambers earlier in the morning, but had been worried that he would not be capable of actually doing the deliveries, especially if the spell wore off earlier than he expected.

"Will you be back here tomorrow morning?" asked George.

"I'm not sure," answered Merlin. "I'm meant to attend Arthur, but he might assign me back here. I guess it will depend on how much help the Steward needs."

George nodded his understanding and was surprised to find himself disappointed that he might not be working with the Prince's manservant the next day. Against all of his expectations, a healthy Merlin turned out to be quite pleasant to collaborate with. "Well, if not, I will see you at the feast tomorrow," the fastidious servant said, "I'm glad you were feeling better today."

"Thank you… and yes I will be there," said Merlin with a smile as the two young men left the room. "I do sincerely hope that the food stays on the plates this time around. It was no fun cleaning it off the walls after the last feast."

George laughed. Actually he was reluctant to admit it since people tended not to understand, but he had not really minded the aftermath of the food fight. After all, the dirtier the room was when he started his cleaning, the more satisfying it was to see the pristine results. So, he simply gave his companion one last smile, the two servants parted ways.

Luckily Gaius' rounds on this day of the week were limited to a few knights and nobles, and all lived in the castle. Merlin had handed over the last of the bottles shortly after the noon bell, and made his way to the kitchens to pick up the Prince's lunch.

Merlin could feel the spell wearing off, although quite slowly so far. He hoped he would be able to reach Arthur's chambers before it gave way completely and was suddenly very glad that he'd decided to drop off Lancelot's scabbard on his way to the Great Hall and so avoided the extra side-trip now.

Already the pains in his legs were returning and his headache, which had never fully gone away, was becoming a rhythmic throbbing that promised to soon become a stabbing pain. The young servant's outward symptoms were still hidden; he did not yet feel the exhaustion that would turn his strides into stumbling, and his cough was not threatening yet either, although he did not think this would be the case for very much longer.

At last Merlin arrived at Arthur's chambers and pushed open the door, relieved that at last he would get the chance to tell the Prince about his illness and therefore was only moments away from being in his bed.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur started before he got the chance. "Ah, Merlin. I've been wondering when you would arrive," said the Prince.

"I've come as soon as I could," said Merlin, wondering if Arthur had expected him earlier, though the Prince did not seem angry.

"I know, I know… it's just that I've been waiting for you to bring the cloaks. I'm anxious to see how they turned out," said Arthur.

"Cloaks? … Oh, the cloaks. The thing is…." stammered Merlin, frantically trying to find the words to explain. When it failed he blurted out, "I…I don't have them!"

"Well I can see that, Merlin," laughed the Prince. "But once you put down that tray, I'd like you to fetch them. Are they in your chambers?"

"Not…. as such," Merlin answered uncomfortably. "I…um…it's…I haven't actually picked them up yet."

Arthur stared at his manservant in surprise. "What?" he asked in disbelief.

Merlin just lowered his eyes, not daring to meet the Prince's.

"Merlin, I'm very disappointed," Arthur said angrily. "I know you've been busy but I've counted on you for this. The knights of my Round Table have stood by me through thick and thin, and it is very important to me to be able to gift those cloaks to them as tokens of my appreciation. You've known for some time now that I'd intended to do it at the dinner tonight."

Merlin continued to hang his head in guilt. "I'm … so sorry, Sire," he said. "It's just that I've had so much else to do over the past week, that I just forgot. Or,… not forgot… exactly, but every time I thought of it, there was something more pressing that I needed to do."

"Well, do you have anything more pressing right now?" said Arthur, his tone showing that Merlin had better not have.

The warlock looked out the window into the pouring rain and gloom, inwardly sighing. It looked like his hopes of finding Gaius and getting a proper treatment for his illness followed by some rest, would have to be put on hold. Worse still, he would almost certainly need to use the symptom masking spell. Again.

The young servant lowered his eyes to hide his almost crushing disappointment. "No, Sire. Nothing comes to mind. I'll leave right away then," he said quietly.

Arthur nodded, his frown subsiding now that he had found a solution to his crisis. "Good. I know it will take you most of the afternoon, so bring them straight here when you get back. I'd still like to take a look before the dinner, and I can do that while you are pouring my bath and setting out my clothes."

"Yes, Sire," said Merlin, not daring to look Arthur in the eyes lest the Prince see the tears he was desperately fighting to prevent.

Chapter Text

As soon as he left the Prince's chambers, Merlin slumped against the wall in the hallway. The symptom masking spell had worn off at around the same time as Arthur had mentioned the bath he'd be having his manservant pour later on, though Merlin had done his best to hide his misery while he was still in the room.

Merlin was alarmed at how much the spell had sapped his body's strength, especially since he'd only used the barest trickle of magic to cast it. The fever and the pains in his head and legs were not just returning, they were crashing on to him, leaving him breathless and in an agony that seemed ten times worse than it had that morning.

The young warlock knew this was exactly what Gaius had warned him about and it frightened him to realize that he would need to cast the spell again and using a lot more magic if he was going to be able to bring back the cloaks before the dinner.

Merlin tried to calm himself. He'd used such a small bit of magic for the spell that morning that it stood to reason that the deterioration in his condition was from having worked too hard when he was with George. He'd certainly done that. And yes the weather was bad but he would be on horseback and the horse was warm, and he didn't have a lot of lifting or exertion ahead of him… a ride to the country was quite relaxing, right?…. So…maybe it would be all right this time; not too draining…Maybe…?

A wave of dizziness hit him and he started to become alarmed again. He should just go and tell Arthur. Really, the Prince was a good man; he'd understand that Merlin needed help right now and could not do this chore.

The young servant raised his hand hesitantly to the door latch…

But no…

Merlin thought of his Prince, but it was not worry over a master's anger that flooded into his mind, it was the disappointment that had filled the Arthur's face. Merlin had hated to see that, especially knowing he had put it there. And it was not even just Arthur that Merlin had let down by forgetting to pick up the gifts; he'd let down his own friends.

The young warlock practically sobbed from the guilt that wracked him. The knights deserved this so much, and Arthur was trying to do this wonderful thing. Merlin couldn't ruin that for them…he let his hand drop, leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, unable to stop the tears pooling beneath the lids.

He had no choice. With a deep sigh he pushed off from the wall and stumbled across the hall to a broom closet where he was sure he would not be seen. Once inside, the warlock raised a shaking hand only to drop it again a moment later, still reluctant. But then hesitantly, he raised it again and held it steady, finally allowing his eyes to flash and daring to whisper the words he needed.

A short time later saw Merlin at the stables, despondently saddling up his mare.

"Where are you heading out in this weather?" asked the Stablemaster, handing the boy a bridle.

"Ah, well, you know how it is," said Merlin quietly. "The Prince needs something and it can't wait."

The Stable Master chuckled. "Indeed," he said. "What's a little rain to a noble when he has a servant that can be sent out in it?"

Merlin tried to smile, but it never really reached his lips. All he could manage was a pained grimace as the deep ache in his right leg gave a throb. Even having allowed his magic to flow strongly into the masking spell this time, his symptoms had not completely gone away and that frightened him.

"Take care young man," said the Stable Master. His good humour had faded on sensing that Merlin was not feeling his best. "The roads are slick with mud, and unless I miss my guess this rain will be turning to snow before much longer."

Merlin closed his eyes in resignation for a moment. Of course it was going to turn into snow, since that was the very last thing his ailing body needed.

"Thanks for the warning," he said, and hitching up the collar of his thin jacket, he rode out into the rain.

The trip to the tanner's village where Merlin was to pick up the cloaks was every bit as miserable as he'd expected.

The roads were pitted and practically oozing with mud and the young servant had to dismount and lead his horse through ankle deep water in more than one place.

Merlin was glad he was alone, because at least it meant he could use his magic to dry himself off when he got too cold and wet. Unfortunately he could not use it to make the journey faster and the trip that usually took just over an hour took almost double that due to the poor road conditions.

It was past midafternoon when the tanning pits marking the edge of the village came in view. Merlin kicked his horse to a trot once he'd turned down the lane leading to the main tannery building; he would have to hurry if he wanted to be back in Camelot in time for Arthur to inspect the cloaks before dinner.

"Hello lad," rang out a booming voice as Merlin walked into the large barn where the group of tanners stored their wares. The huge, broad muscled man belonging to the voice soon came out from behind a set of shelves where he had been stacking dried skins.

Merlin shivered violently and gave a vicious sneeze before he had a chance to answer.

"Whoa, that's some cold you've got there, my lad," the tanner remarked. "How is it that your master has sent you out here instead of home to your mother?" he asked with smile.

"I…" Merlin began, and sneezed again. "I'm just fine," he insisted. Merlin may have been ill, but it certainly did not mean he wanted anyone thinking he was some sort of child in need of babying. "I'm the Prince's Manservant, and I've come to pick up an order of cloaks," he added irritably. Merlin immediately felt sorry for being so short with the man, but he was just not up to any chit chat that day, and he was in a rush to be on his way home.

"Are you now?" the tanner asked, amused at the boy's indignation. "Well, I've got them ready to go. Follow me and we'll have you packed up in no time."

True to his word, it was less than a half-hour before Merlin was back on his horse and on the road toward Camelot. The young servant tried his best to hurry, but the trip home took even longer than the trip out, owing largely to the snow that had started when he had reached about the halfway mark.

Normally Merlin would have loved the ride in the snow, especially through the big, beautiful, lacy, flakes that coated the trees and roadside leaving everything white and silent. Today though, all he could think about was how cold those flakes were when they melted on his face and neck and dribbled down into his tunic.

For the barest moment he thought about the winter cloaks that he'd watched the tanner packing up for transport, and wished that he could borrow one for rest of his journey. But of course then the garment would not have time to dry out before Arthur gifted it, and the last thing Merlin wanted was to blemish it.

His own thin jacket was quickly saturated with icy water, and the young warlock had lost count of the times he had used his magic to dry and warm himself. Unfortunately, as he neared the city he'd had to stop; there were too many other people on the road. In any case Merlin had begun to notice the drain on his energy when he used any type of spell, even though the symptom masking one was still holding so far.

The ailing warlock hoped it would continue to work for quite a while yet, though he knew now that it was unlikely to last until the end of the evening. He was glad he'd packed some bottles of Gaius' remedies when he'd rushed out that morning. He'd definitely need to use them at some point, as he had no intention of using the masking spell a third time.

The fifth bell was just ringing when Merlin reached the stables. He quickly dismounted from his horse, dislodging myriad clumps of snow from his hair and his jacket as he hit the ground.

As he began to fumble with the ties on his packages, one of the stable hands rushed up.

"Here, let me help you with that," the young man offered. "You look a bit like a snowman."

Merlin stepped back gratefully, "Thanks," he said running his hands through his hair to send more slushy water droplets to the floor. "I was beginning to wonder how I was going to get them loosened; my fingers are frozen."

"I'm not surprised," the stable hand said as he handed Merlin the first pack. "You're soaked right through. I hope you are heading home to dry off and have something hot to drink."

Merlin shivered and sneezed twice in a row before saying, "No such luck. I need to bring these straight to the Prince, but at least he will have a good fire going in this weather, and that's more than I have in my chambers just now."

The stable hand tutted sympathetically as he handed Merlin another pack. "Well, I hope for your sake that he lets you warm yourself by it."

"I'm sure he will. Arthur's a good man," said Merlin, although he was so late in returning that he was not certain he would have the time linger there long enough to make any difference.

A short time later Merlin staggered in through the Prince's door with his burden. It was not exactly heavy, but the ten or so wrapped cloaks were piled so high in his arms that it was difficult for him to see where he was going.

Arthur must have heard him trying to open the latch, because he'd only managed a few steps inside the room when the Prince said, "Good, you're back!" from somewhere very nearby, and Arthur's hands reached out and took half of the bundles from him.

Merlin followed with the rest, and set them down on the bed beside where Arthur had deposited the ones he'd taken.

"I don't know why I have not done this long ago," Arthur chattered as he began to unroll the first cloak. "My father would certainly never have approved of me thanking people for their loyalty. According to him it is my right as their Prince, and their duty."

Merlin scowled briefly, annoyed that Arthur had not even noticed that his manservant was drenched and shivering beside him. It was easy to see that Arthur was simply too excited to think of anything but the impending dinner. With a small sigh, Merlin started unwrapping one of the cloaks he'd carried over.

"I don't think that's right," continued the Prince. "These knights have gone far beyond duty in my opinion. And for many of them, I'm not even their prince by birth, they have chosen me. Certainly that deserves recognition."

Merlin paused to sneeze, but Arthur did not seem to have noticed that either.

"And Guinevere too," the Prince said enthusiastically. "I don't care what my uncle might say about it being improper to thank a servant, or worse, to allow one to attend a dinner honouring nobles, but she deserves it for putting up with me, don't you think?"

Arthur paused, waiting for an answer.

Merlin pondered the question for a moment. "I think… I think everyone who does something beyond their duties deserves thanks, Arthur, and you are right to honour them this way," he said. That he himself deserved the same consideration never even crossed his mind.

Arthur smiled broadly at the confirmation.

Once they had finished unwrapping the cloaks, Arthur held one up to admire. It was a beautiful garment; the outer cloak was hooded and of wool dyed in the Camelot red, with wolf skin over the shoulders for extra warmth. It was fur lined on the inside, and Arthur had ordered a dragon to be stitched along the binding at the collar, as befit a nobleman of Camelot. The cloaks would be extremely warm and resistant to rain or snow on even the coldest days.

Arthur laid the cloak back down with a smile, pleased at seeing the wonderful results of his instructions. Then the Prince began to search through the pile that Merlin had unwrapped, frowning when he reached the last cloak. "Merlin, where is the one for Guinevere?" he asked. "I don't see it here…"

"You don't?" the young servant asked.

"No…," and turning towards his servant with a frown he said, "Merlin, you did remember that her cloak was being finished in Milton, didn't you?" referring to the tiny village just upstream from the tanneries. It specialized in embroideries and special embellishments of fine clothes, especially those destined for ladies.

"Um…" stammered the young warlock, "I'm sorry, Arthur, I completely forgot!"

The Prince stared at Merlin in disbelief for a long while, until the young servant dropped his gaze, unable to look Arthur in the eye any longer.

"Well it's too late to go back for it today," Arthur said sadly, pointing out the obvious. "I would have liked to give it to her tonight, but I guess I will have to do it some other time."

Merlin had to catch his breath; the flare-up of guilt at the Prince's words hit him like a blow; he'd let Arthur down for the second time that day.

The servant looked out the window in dismay at the now blowing snow. "I'll… I'll go and get it first thing tomorrow," he forced himself to say, though he did not know how he would ever manage it.

"I'd better go and get the water for your bath," Merlin mumbled. He did not bother waiting for an answer before rushing out of the room. He just wanted to be away from Arthur for a little while.

As Merlin poured the bath, he could already feel the signs that the masking spell was wearing off, and knew he was going to dearly regret how much work he was doing today. Already he could feel the burning in his throat, and the aches in his legs were becoming more intense by the minute.

While Arthur was taking his bath, Merlin laid out the Prince's clothing for the evening and then finally took a moment to go over and warm himself by the fire. Unfortunately, no matter how close he got to the flames it did not seem to be enough to stop the feverish shivers that had started once again to wrack his body.

His illness was hitting him again; too hard and too fast. With a groan he realized that he was going to have to take the remedies he'd packed in his bag a lot sooner than he'd wanted. In fact he needed them now. So, with Arthur still soaking, Merlin opened his bag and took out the three bottles. He glared at them for a moment as if it was their fault he needed them, but when a wave of dizziness had him clutching at the wall to steady himself, he grimaced and drank all three draughts down.

It took a few moments for them to start working, but Arthur was still enjoying his bath so Merlin was able to continue resting by the fire until he was feeling a little bit better. Now he had another problem though; he would need to make sure he had enough time to go to his own chambers to get more medications, because the doses he'd just taken would not last carry him through the dinner. Better still, if he could get to his chambers, he may even have a chance to talk to Gaius and get something even more effective.

Hoping to speed things up, Merlin grabbed Arthur's towel and went over to the bath. "Come on, let's get you out of there," he said to the Prince, even though Arthur had not yet signalled to him.

The bath had allowed Arthur to put his disappointment over the missing cloak behind him, and his eagerness for the dinner to return. He was more than ready to get out and get dressed, and in a very short time Merlin was doing up the last button on the Prince's finest jacket.

There was still plenty of time until they needed to get to the Great Hall, so Merlin breathed a silent sigh of relief and was just about to take his leave when Arthur in his excitement dashed his manservant's plans once again.

"Come on Merlin, now that I'm ready, I want to get there early," the Prince said. "I will have enough time to see to arranging these cloaks myself. Do you think we should set them at the knight's places, or should I surprise them after the dinner?"

Merlin stopped short. This was just not fair, and he started to feel angry.

"But Sire, I need to go back to my chambers before dinner. In case you haven't noticed, I'm still all wet from travelling. I need to change into something dry and get something to eat, since I'm going to have to stand and serve everybody all night," he said.

"And I don't see why some of the other servants couldn't help out tonight," he added petulantly. Even when he'd been feeling well, Merlin had been annoyed at Arthur for insisting that he be the only servant in attendance for all ten guests.

"But Merlin, it's meant to be an intimate dinner...between friends, and we are all used to having only you with us when we are out on the road, so it just seemed right to me," said Arthur with a laugh. "Don't worry," the Prince added, and walking over to his armoire Arthur rooted around in it for a few minutes, finally pulling out a shirt and a pair of trousers. Holding them out to Merlin, the Prince said, "Here, you can borrow these for tonight, and it will be too warm for you to need your jacket so just leave that here to dry."

As his manservant took the offering Arthur added, "And I promise I'll save you a plate of the finest for when the evening is done."

Merlin stared down at the clothes he held in his hands, not sure what he could say. The only things he knew were: first, that he'd just lost all of his excuses for returning to his chambers for more medications, and two, that without those medications he'd eventually need to cast the symptom masking spell for a third time.

But since he had nobody to blame but himself, he could do nothing but shake his head sadly and get dressed in his borrowed clothes.

Chapter Text

Merlin and Arthur arrived in the Great Hall well before any of the guests and with plenty of time for the Prince to make a decision on how to present the cloaks to the knights. Arthur now stood near the entry with his lips pursed and his hands on his hips, looking all around the area that had been set up for them.

"Merlin, I think it will be best if we put the cloaks on the table in front of the places where the knights will be sitting," said Arthur eventually.

The young servant quickly laid out the gifts as he'd been ordered and stepped back to see what the Prince thought. It looked fine to Merlin's eyes and he held his breath hoping that Arthur would agree. Even though Merlin had just taken his medications, the walk from the Prince's chambers carrying the cloaks had tired him out, and he hoped he'd be able to rest before anyone else arrived.

"No, it's taking up to much space at the table," Arthur said after considering the arrangement for a short time. "Let's put them on the seats instead," he continued.

Merlin sighed and went around the table moving the bundles to the chairs, but by the time he'd placed the last one, Arthur was already scowling.

"Why don't I bring a small table over and put it near the wall behind your seat?" the warlock suggested, hoping to prevent Arthur from making him rearrange the gifts yet another time or ten. "Then they are safe, inconspicuous and out of the way, and you can present them whenever you like."

Arthur thought about the idea and to his servant's relief began to nod. "I forget you are not always an idiot, Merlin," he said fondly. "Good idea, see to it," he added.

Lord Agravaine arrived only a few minutes after Merlin had finished carefully stacking the cloaks on the table he'd taken from the other side of the partitions. The dark haired noble looked around the room, his expression saying he was less than impressed with the way it had been set up. No doubt Agravaine did not find the decor to be grand enough for his liking, but he held his tongue, instead glaring at Merlin and gesturing at the young servant to bring a goblet of wine.

Merlin went to get the drink from the table where the refreshments had been set out and after handing it to Agravaine he quickly moved out of the way, going over to stand near the fire. He would have liked to stay closer to the Prince and his uncle to better hear in case the older man was trying to push some of his usual poisonous ideas for running the Kingdom onto Arthur, but Merlin was too cold and weary to make that effort tonight.

The warlock was relieved when Sir Geoffrey arrived and joined the other two nobles. Geoffrey might be boring and a stickler for rules and propriety, but Merlin knew he was a good man with a good heart and would never try and influence Arthur to the detriment of the people of Camelot.

With his worries over Agravaine removed, Merlin allowed himself to lean against the wall. It was lovely and warm from being so close to the fire, and Merlin had almost dozed off when he noticed Arthur gesturing at him to attend to Sir Geoffrey. Reluctantly the warlock pushed himself back up upright, and with a shudder at the sudden cold that hit his back he went to do as he had been bid. After handing the archivist his drink, Merlin quickly returned to his spot, reaching down to rub at his aching calves for a moment before straightening and leaning into the warmth once again.

Soon the laughing and noisy knights began to filter into the room and Merlin was very glad to see that they were perfectly willing to go over to the refreshments table and pour their own drinks. He knew he should be waiting on them and wished he felt like mingling; after all most of the guests were friends of his. But the remedies he'd taken earlier had barely seemed to take the edge off of his symptoms and he could not bring himself to move from where he stood.

"Merlin, what are you doing back there?" asked Lancelot, startling his friend. The young knight had arrived a few minutes later than the others.

"I'm just… waiting to be called on, I guess," said Merlin forcing a smile.

Lancelot frowned for a moment, not quite convinced that everything was right with his friend. He moved a few steps closer, meaning to ask the warlock what was wrong, but just then Elyan came up and clapped the dark haired knight on the shoulder.

"So how does it feel to be squireless again," laughed the former blacksmith, making a show of circling around his friend to inspect him. "You seem to have gotten everything on in the right place."

Lancelot shook his head and laughed, "I admit it is quite easy to get used to having someone hang on every order like it was a gift," he said. "But I'm quite glad to be allowed to pull on my gauntlets and scabbard my own sword for a few days without it needing to become some sort of ceremony."

Even Merlin managed a smile at hearing his friend's words, though he did not offer any of his usual teasing retorts, nor did he move from where he leaned.

"Speaking of scabbards, I saw how pleased Gerard was with his new one," said Elyan, not noticing that Merlin was being so uncharacteristically quiet.

Lancelot smiled broadly at the memory. "I almost thought he would faint from gratitude," the knight said, just as Sir Gwaine joined them.

"Here, you have some catching up to do," the roguish knight said, handing Lancelot a tankard of ale. "Merlin, I hope I'm not stepping on your toes by serving Lancelot here," he said, grinning at the young warlock.

Merlin was glad to see that Gwaine was back in his usual good humour. Maybe he would talk to the knight about his tavern tab if the chance came up. Merlin would need to work at the tavern for a few more nights, but knew his friend would be anxious to repay the debt that Merlin had taken on, and the warlock could definitely use the coin. He didn't have enough energy for that conversation just now though.

"No, you can even step on my boots if you want to volunteer to keep the goblets filled tonight," the young servant said instead, with as much humour as he could muster.

Something in Merlin's tone must have raised an alarm bell for Gwaine, since he dropped his smile and looked at the servant with the beginnings of concern. "Merlin?..." he began.

"You'd better get busy, here comes Leon and he looks thirsty," said Merlin, trying to deflect the attention from himself with the joke.

It worked, but only because Leon came up and immediately began peppering all of his friends with questions about the situation with the refugees and the village of Westmoor. The recovering Senior Knight had not been allowed to visit the town with the first contingent of men, but he was taking charge of a follow-up two-day mission with Gwaine, which would be leaving the next afternoon. The discussion naturally expanded and gravitated toward the centre of the room, since most of the other dinner guests had also been involved with assisting the devastated village and everyone seemed to have something to say about it.

Merlin let the group move on without him. He was curious about the state of the town and its inhabitants, although admittedly less so than was usual, but his need for more rest won out over his wish to follow his friends. Once he was alone again he let out a sigh of relief, shut his eyes and leaned back more firmly against the warm wall.

He'd almost dozed off again when Gwen made her appearance, stopping all conversation and leaving at least half of the guests with their mouths hanging open.

The serving girl was stunning. She wore a lilac gown and the jewels embroidered into it sparkled in the flickering light of the candles. The blush in her cheeks was highlighted by upswept hair; hair that she fiddled with, giving away her nerves at being dressed so much more finely than she was used to.

The warlock let out a real laugh when Arthur rushed over like a besotted boy and took Gwen's hand. It seemed as though the Prince had forgotten everyone else in the room as he gazed lovingly into her eyes before turning and leading her to the table.

Gwen's arrival signalled the start of the meal, and soon all of the guests were seated around the table.

With a sigh Merlin moved from his spot by the fire to a more central location behind Arthur. He dearly hoped that, since this was a small and intimate dinner and many of the knights would form the group going to Westmoor the next day, the evening would end early and that he would not need to do too many refills of the wine goblets. The young warlock was already having a difficult time trying to hide the chills that wanted to take over his body now that he was away from the warmth.

For a while it seemed like Merlin would get his wish.

The cook had outdone herself, and had prepared a roasted boar stuffed with 22 doves for the occasion. That was joined by platters of beans, carrots and parsnips, and for dessert came cherry pudding, honey-almond pastries and apple tarts. The food was plentiful and delicious and talk around the table was animated, but much less boisterous than at most feasts and with much less drinking too.

Until after dessert.

Once Merlin had removed the dirty dishes to the tables outside the partitions where they would be picked up and brought back to the kitchens, Arthur stood and began his gift giving.

Rather than quickly handing out the cloaks and then calling a close to the evening as Merlin had optimistically hoped, the Prince decided to tell an anecdote about each of the knights he was gifting. Arthur had obviously been preparing these for some time as he wove tales of courage and made sure to add in some embarrassing moments for each of his friends. By the third gift the guests were roaring with laughter and banging on the tables with their goblets in appreciation.

The mood only escalated after the last cloak had been presented, and soon the group was laughing merrily, drinking and even singing almost as though they were at a tavern.

Merlin was now being run off his feet, especially once the wine began to run low. He'd had to make two trips to the wine cellar already, and two other trips to fetch mead and ale.

Suddenly Arthur wobbled to his feed to make a toast. "To my dear Gwen, and to my Uncle Agravaine," he began. "A toast for all they have done to help me during my father's illness," he added passionately.

"Merlin, fill the goblets," the Prince ordered on seeing that most around the table were empty.

The servant limped to do as he'd been asked, but when he went to refill the Prince's cup, only a drip came out before the bottle was empty.

Arthur scowled for a moment, but it turned into a wide smile when an idea struck him. "Wait!" he cried out to Merlin just as his manservant was about to reach for a full bottle nearby. "It's a sign that I should bring out the best!" he continued excitedly. "Merlin, go to the third cellar and bring out six bottles of Camelot's finest."

The warlock groaned but did not try to argue. Arthur was right, this group did deserve the best, but he hated going to the third cellar even when he was at his fittest. This was where the rarest and longest aged vintages were kept. It was at the very furthest point of the cellars; down two long, dark flights of stairs and several cold and dusty corridors from the where the everyday wines were stored. Not only that, but the wine Arthur had asked for was kept on shelves at the very back of the storage room.

He walked slowly toward the door and turned to look at Arthur, hoping that maybe the Prince would forget what he'd requested. But Arthur just continued to grin and waved him out of the room.

By the time Merlin made it to the first level of wine cellars, he was already winded and aching. He considered just taking an ordinary wine from one of the nearby shelves and hoping that everyone was too drunk to care, but soon rejected the idea. It would be just his luck that someone would notice, and then he'd have to come all the way back downstairs. It would be better if he just pushed on. So, with a sigh he headed to the stairway leading down to the lower levels.

The medicine Merlin had taken just before leaving Arthur's chambers had never had very much effect, but even the little relief it had offered was rapidly wearing off. By the time the ill servant got to the third cellar the throbbing in his head was making him see stars. Thinking that some light might help, Merlin looked around for a torch but could not see any nearby. He was also well beyond caring that someone might see him, and with a flash of his eyes he tried to conjure some light just like he'd done a thousand other times.

The young warlock gasped in shock when this time the act only caused a piercing pain to lance through his whole body, leaving him trembling and feeling sick to his stomach. With what was almost a sob, Merlin sank to the floor, leaning against the wall and pulling his knees up so he could rest his aching head on them.

Up to that point he had actually been optimistic that he could avoid using the symptom masking spell for a third time. It was true that he felt terrible, and the draughts he'd taken had not helped much, but he had managed to do his duties anyway and he was almost certain that the party would soon be over. All he had to do was last for a little bit longer and he'd be able to go home and take another, stronger dose of medicine before he had to go to the tavern.

Merlin sat without moving for a few minutes, and gradually the piercing pain in his head receded as did the nausea. He began to be hopeful once more. Maybe if he just rested for a tiny bit longer, he would be able to regain enough of his strength to get the wine and make it through until the end of the party. He closed his eyes and hugged himself more tightly, trying to stop his shivering and though it was not his intention, the young servant was soon fast asleep.

The toast to Agravaine and Gwen had long since been forgotten and the guests were taking turns at telling their own stories about each other, when Arthur finally realized that Merlin had not yet returned.

"Where is that idiot with the wine," the Prince said fondly, "He should have been back here ages ago."

Agravaine looked around the room, frowning in anger when he realized Arthur was right. "I'll go get him Sire," he offered. "You've asked for a very specific vintage. Perhaps your servant is unable to read the labels and is too stupid to ask for help. We certainly don't want the oaf bringing back the wrong wine, or it will spoil the mood."

Arthur was in too good of a mood, which was not helped by his state of inebriation, to realize that his Uncle was not joking in his condemnation of his manservant. The Prince laughed and answered, "Well said, Uncle. Yes, go get him AND our wine please."

The dark haired man was only too happy to go in search of the missing young man, and fully intended to teach the boy a lesson about failing in his duties.

It took Agravaine quite a long time to reach his destination. He'd stopped numerous times along his route to talk with nobles who were visiting Camelot for the larger Yule feast that would be held the next night.

The Prince's Uncle was very adept at telling people, those whom he thought important anyway, exactly what they wanted to hear, and so tended to be very popular with those guests.

With a last promise to reserve a whole cherry pie for a particularly corpulent Earl, Lord Agravaine finally turned down the corridor leading to the cellars. Before much longer he came upon the sleeping young manservant.

Agravaine smiled; the boy was obviously ill judging by the sheen of sweat above his lip, the tightly closed eyes and the tremors that wracked his body several times even while the Prince's uncle watched. It did the man good to see the servant in a situation of weakness, and he fully intended to exploit it. Agravaine did not appreciate the influence this servant had over his nephew, and this seemed a good opportunity to bring him down a notch or two.

With a last smirk at the sleeping young man, Agravaine made his move. "Oi, you, boy!" he shouted at Merlin, adding a light kick to the boy's hip for good measure."

"What do you think you are doing, sleeping here while you are meant to be on duty?" he said as Merlin blearily opened his eyes, startling awake when he realized who was addressing him.

"I'm sorry, Sir," stammered out Merlin as he tried to get to his feet. "I'm … not feeling so well tonight and I didn't think Arthur would mind if I took a few minutes to rest. I've been running around for him all day, and everyone looked to be enjoying themselves even without the extra wine."

"Well, you thought wrong," Agravaine spat. "Why would he care about how you feel? I think you overestimate your value," he said, smiling inwardly at the young man's flinch. "You are his servant, and he gave you a direct order. I heard him myself. So get yourself off the floor and get back to work immediately or I will have you tossed into the dungeons. You can rest there if you are feeling so poorly."

Agravaine was pleased by the look of dismay on the servant's face, though Merlin made no move to rush back to his duties. The boy looked ill enough that Agravaine wondered if he may actually be considering that resting in the dungeons would be the lesser of the two evils.

The sleazy man had not finished with his plan to hurt the young man yet and so did not want Merlin to consider the dungeons option for too long. "What are you waiting for?" he shouted. "Can you not understand how important this feast is for your Master? Need I remind you that he is honouring the most loyal of his friends this night? You should be providing only the best of service for all of these men, any of whom are a thousand times your worth, not this lazy, shoddy effort that I've been seeing from you all evening."

Merlin seemed to deflate at the comment, much to Agravaine's delight. Lowering his eyes, and shifting his feet, the boy said tonelessly, "Yes, Sir, I understand. I'm on my way."

And without another look at Agravaine, and so completely missing the man's broad grin, Merlin trudged down the corridor to find a torch and headed into the third cellar to find the awaited wine.

Merlin arrived at the section of the cellar where "Camelot's finest" wine was kept only to find that there were no bottles left on any of the three bottom shelves. The fourth shelf could only be reached by climbing and to do that he needed to go back to the entrance to fetch the ladder by the door.

After manoeuvering the ladder to where he needed it, Merlin looked up at the distant bottles with dismay. He had not found any sort of basket or box to help him carry the wine and he didn't dare to bring down more than two bottles at a time. That meant he was going to have to climb three times. Three times up, and three times down he corrected himself!

He sighed again, grasped hold of the upright bars and began his ascent. By the time he had come back down to the ground with the first two bottles of wine, almost all of benefit he'd had from his short rest in the hallway had been negated, and his head was pounding once more.

Merlin looked back up to the fourth shelf with despair. There was no way he would be able to climb again in this condition. He thought about returning to the Great Hall with just the two bottles, but the memory of Lord Agravaine's cruel words stopped him short. He needed to bring all six.

That meant…

Shaking his head sadly Merlin allowed tear-filled eyes to flash gold as he cast the symptom masking spell for the third time that day.

Then, feeling only marginally better, he began his second climb.

Merlin dragged his feet back to the Great Hall, hoping to avoid Agravaine since the Lord would surely find fault with how long he had taken.

However, when Merlin entered the room, it was to find it empty. He set the wine on the table and looked around in open-mouthed disbelief. The party was over? Had he really slept for that long?

Apparently he had… No wonder Agravaine had been so angry at him.

But that also meant that he had cast the masking spell again for nothing.

Merlin was still shaking his head with dismay when the Steward came into the room.

"Ah, Merlin," he said. "I've been waiting for you to return."

Merlin wondered why, and hoped that the Steward did not want him to help with the dishes since he was probably already late for his job at the tavern.

But the Steward had other news. "Prince Arthur left you that," he said pointing over at the table that had recently held the wrapped cloaks. It held a plate with food that Arthur must have put aside for his servant, just like he'd promised. Merlin's heart warmed a little bit at being remembered, even though he felt far too nauseated to eat any of it.

"He also told me to tell you that he was going to see Gwen home, and that you need not attend him tonight. He also told me to tell you that he wished to rise late tomorrow, and that you may also lie in if you would like to."

Taking a close look at the young servant, the Steward added, "I would take him up on that offer, if I were you my boy," he said. "You look like you could do with a little bit of extra sleep. Now, go!"

"Thank you," answered Merlin taking his plate. "I think I will," and once he was certain that the Steward did not need him, Merlin began to walk back to his chambers.

Merlin decided that he did not care how late he was for his shift at the tavern; he was going to stop into his chambers and pick up some medication before he went there. With a frown he also realized that he would need to don several of his shirts, since his only jacket was still drying out in Arthur's chambers. Merlin even decided to make himself a pot of honeyed tea, although the masking spell had been doing a very good job of hiding his sore throat and cough.

The young servant was happy to see that Gaius had been back at some point, and that it looked like he was finished treating Lord Owen's baby. Most of the special tools for treating small children had been cleaned and put away and the medical bag that the physician had packed had been emptied and hung back on its hook.

Merlin guessed that Gaius had been able to go to the Inn where he'd arranged his medical consultations, since his largest medical bag was now gone.

After two cups of tea and a few bites from the plate Arthur had left him, Merlin felt that he was as ready as he would ever be for his shift at the tavern.

Merlin had been washing dirty tankards for about an hour when Gwaine arrived with a group of the nobles who had come to Camelot for Yule. In spite of having just left a party with free-flowing drink, the man was remarkably sober.

Merlin was not really surprised. He knew what few others did - that Gwaine's reputation as a drunk was carefully fabricated.

The knight did indeed enjoy his ale and mead, but had a very high tolerance for it. He rarely allowed himself to reach a state of drunkenness, since it caused a loss of judgement and an accompanying loss of reflexes that the knight did not tolerate in himself.

Most of Gwaine's bar tab was a result of purchasing for others, often knights or nobles visiting from other Kingdoms. It always amazed Gwaine how many secrets were forthcoming when the visitor thought he was taking advantage of the loose purse of a drunken idiot.

Tonight's tavern visit was no different, Merlin suspected. He recognized a couple of the men Gwaine had brought as being somewhat underhanded in the dealings they brought to Arthur's attention. No doubt the Prince had asked Gwaine to investigate.

The group ended up sitting very close to the counter, and so Gwaine spotted Merlin at work when he went to order the first round of drinks.

"Merlin, what are you doing here?" he asked his friend.

"I, um… I'm just helping out a bit." Came the hesitant answer.

"Young man, did you not yet tell Sir Gwaine what you have done for him?" asked the innkeeper incredulously as he handed a tankard to the fun-loving knight.

Merlin looked stricken, "No, I … not yet… I've hardly seen him in the last few days what with the refugees coming in from Westmoor… and all of the preparations for Yule to take care of."

"And so he has not paid you back either, then?" the Innkeeper said, looking as though he felt a bit guilty about that.

Gwaine frowned in confusion, the look giving way to suspicion and finally to reluctant understanding as vague memories from two nights earlier started to firm and tell a story he did not really want to hear.

"Innkeeper, why is Merlin washing dishes for you after he has been on his feet these last many hours serving our Prince at his feast?" Gwaine insisted, while looking directly at Merlin. "Please tell me that this is just a hobby of his…"

Merlin paled, and gave the Innkeeper a tiny shake of his head, but the man returned the gesture with a perceptive look and turned back to his best customer. "Merlin is paying off your debt, Sir Gwaine, through the goodness of his heart," he explained. "You are fortunate indeed to have a friend such as him to take care of you."

Gwaine gaped at Merlin, who had gone back to his cleaning and was currently wishing everyone would just stop talking about him.

"I am, and well I know it," Gwaine answered sincerely. "I knew I should have asked why you had not come for my payment yet," he said, "but to be honest, I'd hoped it had slipped your mind, though I had every intention of paying the full amount right after Yule."

Gwaine turned back to his young friend and said, "Merlin, … why didn't you say something? I would never have wanted you to take this on for me!"

Merlin sighed, "I know, but you were not yourself that night, and the Innkeeper asked, and anyway it helped somebody else at the same time, so I just thought…"

Gwaine shook his head in amazement at his friend's selflessness. Then, he called over to the people he'd come in with and said cheerfully, "Well my friends, I hate to desert you but it looks like I've got some dishes to wash."

He took the few steps needed to reach Merlin, took the dishrag gently but firmly out of the boy's hand and pulled him away from the washtub. "Mate, I think I need to take this over now. You need to go home and get some sleep. It sounds like you've got a cold coming on."

Merlin gave a grateful smile to his friend. "Thanks," he said wearily.

Gwaine scowled, "Merlin, I'm not the one that deserves the thanks," he said. "Now, please … go! And once I get back from Westmoor, you can be sure you will get every last penny that is due to you!"

Merlin did not even think of arguing, and less than a half-hour later the young servant was home and in his bed. The remnants of the spell and the draughts he'd taken just before going to his room left him feeling comfortable enough to fall quickly into a deep sleep.

When Merlin awoke the next morning the medications and the spell had completely worn off. The young servant knew that everything hurt, but he was unable to remember why, or to focus enough to realize that he was ill.

The only thought that penetrated his addled brain was a need to right some wrong he had done to someone; or someones, maybe... That part had not come clear, but the driving force behind the thought was so strong that it could have been put there by magic. Regardless of how it had been planted, that thought forced Merlin up out of his bed in spite of such a piercing pain in his head that he decided that he must have been struck there by an axe.

Standing did not help matters; waves of nausea and dizziness had him reeling and sent him back to sitting on his bed with his eyes scrunched tightly shut and his hands pressed to the top of his head as though it might keep it from splitting apart. The pain in the warlock's throat was agonizing too, and he wondered when he had eaten glass, since that was the only reason he could come up with for such intense pain.

Still, the drive to fix whatever mistake he'd made did not let up and in a startling moment of clarity he remembered.

Gwen.

He had to go and get Gwen's cloak...

He'd let Arthur down…

Merlin's eyes flew back open and the memory drove him back to his feet. He did not know how it came to be so, but he was already fully dressed right down to his boots. Quite possibly he'd slept that way. Good, because he needed to be on his way.

Now!

Without really being able to think things through, he staggered his way down the stairs and into the large room below, heading toward the door without even a thought about eating or checking to see if Gaius was there.

As the servant crossed the floor someone said, "Merlin, I didn't hear you come in last night. How was the dinner?" from somewhere in the distance.

The young warlock was confused and suddenly remembered Gaius. Merlin knew he was supposed to talk to the physician about something but could not remember what it was. He pushed it aside, the need to get Gwen's cloak consuming him.

Another wave of dizziness hit just as he reached the door and Merlin let out a gasp, clutching at the doorframe for a moment.

The physican was up on a small walkway which led to some storage areas near the ceiling of the room. He had been putting away the supplies he'd used in his medical consultation the night before. Usually he would ask Merlin to do it, but he had assumed that the boy was already out helping to prepare for the Yule feast to be held that evening.

He had been very surprised when his ward had burst from his room, and even more surprised when Merlin had not called out cheerfully to him on his way to the door. While it was certainly not unusual for the boy to be in a hurry to get to his next chore, it was very rare for him not to spare even a word for his mentor.

Then Gaius had gotten a look at the young servant, and even in those few seconds it became clear to the physician that the boy was not well. Merlin was pale to whiteness and was trembling with what was obviously a high fever.

"Merlin, are you all right?" the physician called out. "Give me a moment to get down from here, I want to take a look at you."

Ill. That was it, he was ill, Merlin remembered. But there was something he was supposed to do about it….

A spell. Yes!

Without even having registered that Gaius was home and was on his way over to take care of him, Merlin mumbled out the words of the spell he'd vowed never to use again.

In the end it did not really matter, because the young warlock had not been able to properly focus and the magic had not been called forth to invoke it. The spell had failed, although Merlin did not realize it. Before the physician had even reached the ladder to begin his descent, Merlin swung open the door and rushed outside the chambers, heading towards the stables as quickly as he could.

Even though the spell had not worked on Merlin, hearing it incanted certainly caused an immediate effect on Gaius. Not a magical one, but a medical, paternal one; a worry and a dread over his ward that had the physician shooting down the ladder like a man twenty years younger. Unfortunately, the ladder was long and rickety, and even at speed it took time to reach the bottom. By the time he got to the corridor outside their rooms, Merlin was gone.

Gaius rushed into the hallway hoping to catch sight of the boy, but to no avail, and there was nobody nearby to ask. The physician rushed towards the kitchen. He thought it likely that Merlin had headed there to pick up Arthur's breakfast since that was usually the servant's first duty of the day. He arrived out of breath, but Merlin was not there and the cook had not seen him although she'd been busy and could not say for sure if he'd been in.

Next the physician headed to Arthur's chambers. He knocked on the door and received only silence so concluded that the Prince was not there. Still, that did not mean Merlin was not in the room so Gaius pushed open the door and stepped inside.

"Merlin?" he called out, but did not get any answer. He looked around again in case his ward was passed out on the floor somewhere, quickly exiting the chambers when it became clear the boy was not inside.

Gaius shook his head, wondering where he should try next, and decided to try the Council room. Arthur usually had a short meeting there with his senior knights and advisors as soon as he'd finished his breakfast. As he neared the door he could hear voices inside, so he quickened his step, certain that Merlin's whereabouts would finally be revealed.

The door to the room was open, so Gaius strode in, interrupting the conversation by blurting out "Sire, where is Merlin?"

"Merlin?" answered Arthur with a chuckle. "Did you check his room, Gaius? I gave him permission to lie in today."

"No, he's gone out somewhere, and we need to find him right away," said Gaius, "I fear he is very ill, Sire."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Ill? What do you mean? Where would he go?" the Prince said.

Gaius shook his head, "I don't know where he went, Sire. I've been looking and can't find him. I thought he would be with you. As to his illness, I've not had a chance to examine him, but he seemed incoherent to me, and it looked like his fever was very high, perhaps even dangerously so."

Arthur stood abruptly, "He can't have gone very far. Don't worry, we'll find him," promised the Prince, getting ready to step away from the Round Table.

"Might I suggest that we finish our discussions here first, Sire," said Lord Agravaine. "These are weighty matters for the Kingdom and it would cause much less disruption if we bring them to a conclusion." The Lord's demeanour showed that he fully expected his recommendation to be heeded.

"Uncle, we have been talking about grain redistribution for next winter and that can easily be resumed once Merlin is found and safe. It can even be resumed on another day. You cannot possibly think I would put the life of my manservant at risk in order to be less disrupted.

"Well, he is only a servant, Sire," insisted Agravaine. "Surely a few extra minutes of discomfort for him, if he is even in any, is not worth disbanding the council session?

"You may be right about that, I suppose," said Arthur causing his Uncle to grin in victory. "Very well, since the grain distribution is so important to you, I will leave the Round Table in your hands for the remainder of the discussion. I will expect a full report this afternoon."

Picking up his gloves, the Prince continued, "And since my manservant is so important to me, I shall attend to finding him as quickly as possible. The members of the Table are free, of course, to make their own decisions about what is important to them."

Agravaine's grin widened even further and he sat back in his chair, waiting to see who would remain with him. He fully expected that the common-born knights would jump to accompany Arthur, and was not surprised to see Lancelot and Gwaine reach the door even before Arthur, with Sirs Percival and Elyan not far behind. That suited Agravaine perfectly since he preferred not to have their opinions in matters that should be left to those born to rule.

The man's grin started to fade when Sir Leon quickly rose to join Arthur. Surely the highly respected knight did not care about the health of a servant? Agravaine concluded that the man must just be trying to curry favour with the Prince and nodded to himself; he could understand that.

Agravaine's grin fell away completely, to be replaced by a confused frown when almost as one, every other noble in the room, young and old, whether common born or from old aristocratic families followed the Senior Knight.

"Let me know what you decide for the grain, Uncle. We can review it later," said Arthur as the group exited the chambers, pulling on gloves and straightening their mail hauberks and cloaks as they hurried away. Agravaine was left sitting alone and dazed in his chair, wondering what everyone saw in the meddling dark-haired serving boy.

Chapter Text

Not far outside of the Council Room, Arthur stopped the group of men so he could organize search parties. The Prince looked around. Apart from his Uncle, all fifteen of the knights that had been at Council had come out to help look for Merlin.

He was proud of these men. In the Camelot that Arthur was building, he was trying by both policy and example to instil the notion that every person, no matter their birth or occupation, had value. It looked like his efforts were paying off, especially since there were several knights among the group that did not particularly … appreciate … Merlin. They thought him incompetent and disrespectful to the Prince, but even so they had obviously come to believe that the young servant did not deserve to suffer if they could do something to prevent it.

"Gaius, how long ago did Merlin leave your chambers?" Arthur asked.

The physician did a quick internal tally of the time he'd been out looking for his missing ward. "Not quite an hour," he answered.

"All right," said Arthur. "Percival, I need you to check the Great Hall and the area nearby. He may have gone there to help with the preparations for the Yule feast."

"We should check the woodpile too," said Elyan. "Percival and I took most of your supply the other day, Gaius, and I know Merlin has been very busy since then. Has he been able to replenish it yet?"

The physician shook his head, "No, we were very low on it, and in his fevered state Merlin may have felt chilled. He could well have had the wood supply on his mind when he ran out of the room."

"Good idea," said Arthur. "Elyan, go ahead and check there, and work your way back along some of the alternative paths in case he wandered away."

"Could he be in the armoury, Sire?" asked one of the older knights as Elyan pulled up his cloak and headed towards the outer doors.

"Hmm. It's very possible, Sir Charles. Gaius, did you already look there?" asked Arthur.

Before the physician had a chance to respond, Gwen turned the corner, almost bumping into Leon. The serving girl was on her way to the Great Hall, judging by the stack of linens she had in her arms. During the dinner the evening before, she'd learned that the Steward was very short handed, and had told Arthur that she did not feel right about continuing her vacation when others needed to work extra time.

"I'm sorry, Sir Leon, I didn't expect you to be blocking the hallway," Gwen said with a chuckle. "But what are you all doing standing here?" she asked.

"Merlin has taken ill, and now he has gone missing," answered Lancelot. "We are on our way to look for him."

"He's missing?" Gwen asked, brows furrowed with concern.

Arthur had been watching the serving girl, at first with adoration but it then turned into contemplation and finally into a horrified realization. The Prince shut his eyes with dismay. "Guinevere's cloak," he said softly, shaking his head.

"What? What do you mean 'Guinevere's cloak'?" asked Lancelot looking at the Prince in confusion.

"I know where he has gone," said Arthur, looking around at the group with dread in his eyes. "Or, at least I'm fairly certain."

He gave a very brief, tight and humourless smile to Gwen before explaining, "Yesterday he forgot to pick up the cloak that I had made as a gift for Guinevere, so he was going to go back to Milton today to get it…We need to get to the stables… Quickly!"

"He could be halfway there by now, Sire. And it's snowing outside!" said Leon with dismay at the thought of the state his friend may be in. "If he was already so ill…."

"Exactly," said the Prince.

Turning back to the assembled men, Arthur said, "Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot come with me. The rest of you spread out and check armoury, kennels, training grounds, archives; the usual places Merlin goes during the course of a day. I'm not wrong…. But I don't want to take the chance that he may be elsewhere."

The men nodded and got ready to move out. "And of course ask everyone you see to keep an eye out for him," the Prince added.

"Guinevere…" Arthur said, taking her hand for a moment. He knew that the serving girl would be distraught over her missing friend, especially knowing now that the young man had likely disregarded his own health in his overwhelming need to right a wrong he thought he'd done her. The Prince shook his head sadly, knowing that was just like Merlin, and looking around at the assembled men he could see this mirrored their own thoughts.

"You'll find him, and he'll be fine," Gwen said, though the she could not hide the uncertainty in her voice. "Please let me know as soon as you've brought him back. I want…need…to help Gaius take care of him."

Arthur gave Gwen's hand a squeeze before releasing it and turning to Gaius. "We'll bring him home soon, I promise," he said.

The physician answered softly, "I shall go immediately to prepare for his return,…" And though the professional words were exactly what he would say when advised about any patient coming his way, his tone left no doubt about his worry for his young ward.

As Arthur hurried towards the stairs down to the castle courtyard, he could see Sir Charles organizing the men that were to remain, quickly dispatching them in various directions. Satisfied that everything possible was being done to find his fr…servant, the Prince headed to the stables.

Arthur's fears about his servant's whereabouts were confirmed within seconds of his arriving at his destination.

"Sire," said the Stable Master as soon as he saw the Prince, and there was no mistaking the anger in the man's voice over…something. He did not even allow Arthur to respond before making known his displeasure. "No disrespect intended, and I know you are usually a fair man, but I do not think it was well done to have sent Merlin all the way to Milton this morning; not in this weather and with the boy being so ill."

Arthur's immediate relief at knowing for certain where his servant was, warred with alarm at having the boy's state of health confirmed. The Prince normally would have been happy that his Stable Master felt able to disagree with him without fear of reprisal, but his worry over Merlin prevented him from noticing it. Arthur did wish he understood how everyone seemed to have recognized Merlin's illness except the boy's closest friends.

"I did not send him out, and I did not know he was ill," Arthur explained quickly. "But I do intend to go out and find him immediately."

Relieved that the Prince had not intentionally put his servant in harm's way, the Stable Master and stable hands soon had Arthur and his three knights saddled up and heading out of the city at a gallop.

Merlin was cold; colder than he ever remembered feeling, although the boy had a jolt of fear when he suddenly realized that he couldn't remember very much of anything. The only thing that that stayed clear in his fevered mind was his need to get to Milton… he needed to get something for his dear friend Gwen there. Something very important.

The young warlock shivered violently and held himself almost horizontal in his saddle, scrunching himself down and pressing himself desperately into his mare's neck trying to leech the warmth from her. It didn't help much, but he kicked his horse to a trot. He couldn't let people down for something as trivial as his own comfort.

Gwaine rode at the front of the group of knights, fully concentrated on the road ahead of him. The group was forced to slow down to a walk shortly after leaving the city gates; the road was just too treacherous here to risk going any faster, and the knight was not pleased about it. To make things worse, the snow had picked up even before they'd reached the first watchtower.

"If he's fallen from his horse, we could miss him," called out Leon, peering through the swirling pellets of ice.

"Spread out so we cover the road and a ways to either side," said Arthur, pulling his own horse over to the left edge.

Lancelot immediately took the right, while Leon and Gwaine moved off the road and onto what would normally be a grassy verge to either side.

"He can't be going very fast in this, and he didn't leave all that much before us, we'll come across him soon," said Arthur, and although the Prince was trying to sound optimistic, even to his own ears it sounded unconvincing.

Merlin startled from a daze he'd fallen into. He felt numb; numb and cold; numb and cold and very sleepy, but at least for the moment the pain that had taken over his head and throat and legs…and…everything really… seemed to be absent. That was not at all good, although the young warlock was beyond realizing it.

He did realize that his horse had stopped and that he was supposed to be hurrying somewhere, so he pushed himself upright and tried to urge her back into a trot. The mare resisted and sidestepped almost causing the servant to lose his seat. Merlin peered out into the dim light of the storm, but he could barely see past the horse's nose since the falling snow had crusted onto his eyelids and frozen them almost shut.

Still, his need to reach his destination drove him to kick her forward once more, but she refused again, vehemently. This time, weak and weary from his illness, the abrupt stop caused Merlin to lose his grip and the warlock toppled from his saddle.

He ended up in a bank of mud and snow that had been churned up by the creek that made the road impassable and had been the reason his horse had refused to go on. Although Merlin didn't remember it, he had waded through this same place the day earlier, but after another day of rain and snow it was not fordable, running swift and deep.

Unfortunately, after hitting the ground, the serving boy was too shocked to stop his slide and he began to slip slowly down the bank and towards the rushing creek.

The young knights had decided to risk picking up their pace, knowing that the section of road they were on was generally well maintained and flat underneath the snow. All four had their eyes peeled for any sign of their ill friend.

Suddenly Gwaine called out, "What's that up ahead? I think I see something," and kicked his mount into a cantor.

The others followed his lead, and the group came upon the young warlock just in time to watch in horror as he fell from his horse and slid towards the water.

"Merlin!" called Arthur, frantically leaping to the ground and running towards his manservant. The Prince managed to seize hold of the boy's sodden shirt just before Merlin fell completely into the water. Soon Leon and Gwaine were grabbing Merlin's arms and together the three hauled him back away from the creek and to the relative safety of the road.

Lancelot had already taken off the beautiful cloak he'd been gifted the night before, and held it open. "Quickly, we need to wrap him up and get him warm," said the dark haired knight, hurrying forward put his cloak around his friend's shoulders, and pulling it tightly around the semi-prone boy.

Leon and Gwaine lifted Merlin allowing Arthur to pull the warm garment underneath and around the boy's legs and Lancelot pulled that tight too. Merlin was now cocooned, but he was still shuddering. He looked at the four knights with wide open eyes, but didn't say a word, and did not seem to even recognize them yet.

All of a sudden a terrible guilt struck Arthur, causing him to gasp and almost double over in near pain. Merlin had been out getting a cloak for Guinevere, and had the day earlier brought back the gifts for all of his knights, and yet today his servant was out in the snow without even a jacket. The young man had been forced to wear several layers of shirt because his shabby and only outer garment was still hanging in Arthur's chambers.

Fighting tears the Prince quickly took off his own cloak and wrapped Merlin in that too, and kneeling on the cold ground, he pulled his servant close and held him for a moment.

"Arthur, we need to get him up off of the ground," said Leon compassionately.

"And back to Gaius," added Lancelot, though it didn't really need saying.

Arthur nodded, "Help me lift him onto my horse; he's in no state to ride his own back." The Prince let go of Merlin reluctantly, leaving the wrapped warlock sitting on the ground for the few moments it would take to retrieve his horse.

Merlin silently watched the knights. His awareness was growing somewhat, now that the shock of his tumble was wearing off, but although he recognized the men, his memory was muddled due to his raging fever. As each man's face sharpened it caused a shard of memory to pierce the young servant's confused mind.

Lancelot was here! Had Merlin forgotten to get the scabbard for… for… Gerard….? too?

And Leon - Merlin needed to… to clean?… Leon was injured and Merlin was supposed to help him out, that was it! .… But…but he was sure he hadn't done it today… He'd have to tell Leon that he'd get to it once he had … had done … there was something he was supposed to do first, wasn't there?

Then Gwaine's face flashed by. Oh Gods, had Merlin forgotten to go to the tavern!? Was that it? He was sooooo tired …Tears sprang to the young servant's eyes. There was no way he could go all the way to the tavern right now… but poor Mary and the innkeeper…

And Arthur… there was supposed to be a feast and he was supposed to be helping George wasn't he?

But …. Oh Gods! The cloak! He needed to get the cloak first! That was it!

Merlin gasped and tried to struggle out of whatever had him tied up. "I'm going! I promise I'll get it! I won't let you down again, Sire…" he mumbled, causing all of his friends to hurry over to him. "And then and then…. Right after, I'll go to the tavern, Gwaine, for the dishes….don't worry!"

The faces were swimming in front of Merlin's eyes now, blurring, and the serving boy mistook the frowns of concern for those of displeasure and anger.

"Please don't drown me!" he blurted out. Surely even with everything he had messed up he didn't deserve that! But what else could be causing all this water in his face and the heavy pressure in his chest?

The knights shared looks of alarm that Merlin could have such nightmarish thoughts, even when so ill.

"He's delirious," said Lancelot anxiously. "We need to get him back to Camelot."

But another snippet of memory assailed the young warlock before they could move him. Gaius' rounds! Merlin had promised to take care of them while the physician was busy helping … somebody. Oh no! When had he last done that? Merlin had risked people's lives by forgetting, no wonder everybody was so angry with him.

"Let me go, I need to help Gaius. People might be ill!" Merlin practically sobbed, his struggles increasing once more.

Arthur knelt back down in the mud and wrapped his arms around his young servant, trying to calm him. "Merlin, listen to me," he said urgently, trying to get through to the boy. "You are the only one who is ill and we are all here to help you."

But Merlin did not understand. In his fevered mind, he was frantic to be set loose to see to his duties and he fought feebly against his friends as they tried to lift him into the saddle in front of Arthur. Finally, inevitably, his struggles weakened and the young warlock slumped against Arthur, unconscious.

It was a grim group that sped its way back to the city.

Chapter Text

Arthur and the knights made good time getting back to Camelot. Desperation played its part in that, since Merlin woke several times, each more delirious than the last. The servant fought to escape from Arthur's hold, sure that he had forgotten all of his chores. At one point he begged to wash Arthur's socks, and although the Prince wanted to find it funny, he could only shake his head sadly and clasp the boy more tightly to his body hoping to calm him.

By the time they reached the watchtower closest to the city, the snow had let up somewhat and Gwaine was able kick his horse to a gallop and race ahead to warn Gaius about the state of his ward.

The rest of the group also managed to pick up its pace and so by the time the physician arrived at the top of the castle steps with Gwaine beside him and ready with a stretcher, the riders were already coming into the courtyard.

Lancelot was the first to leap down from his mount. "Here Arthur, let me take him," the dark haired knight said, rushing over to stand just beside the Prince's horse.

Arthur steadied Merlin and lowered him carefully towards Lancelot's arms, while Leon stood close by and helped to slip the boy off of the horse. Together they lowered him to the stretcher that Gwaine held steady.

Merlin was semi-conscious throughout his transition to the board and tried to fight his way free of the cloaks that were wrapping him. "No, please…" he whispered as he thrashed feebly. "I need to do the dishes…"

Gwaine closed his eyes in guilt for a moment at hearing his young friend. "Merlin," he said grasping the boy's shoulder and bending to speak close to his ear. "It's alright, I've taken over that job now, remember? You need to lie quietly or Gaius will have my head, okay?"

The words seemed to get through, or mostly. "You've taken over?" Merlin whispered.

"Yes, so don't worry," answered Gwaine, moving out of the way to let Gaius through.

The physician smiled worriedly down at his ward. "Merlin my boy, what kind of trouble have you landed yourself in this time?" he said softly as he placed a hand on the boy's brow.

Merlin kept his eyes fixed on Gaius' for a long moment but gradually began to frown. "Why are you at the tavern?" the ill warlock asked in a small, confused voice. But the presence of his mentor obviously gave the boy a huge sense of relief since he suddenly smiled tiredly, allowed himself to relax and almost immediately fell asleep.

Gaius turned towards the four anxiously waiting nobles, "It's as I expected; his fever is very high, and he is having some difficulty breathing," he said. "Has he had any convulsions?"

Arthur looked down sharply at his friend as if to make sure Merlin was not in the midst of one just then. "No, but he was never very aware of what was going on around him, and he was very restless and fought us the whole way back," the Prince explained. "But I don't understand, Gaius, how did he get so ill so quickly? He seemed fine yesterday."

Gaius frowned and said, "No Sire, he was not. I believe this started several days ago." Ignoring the looks of consternation that sprung up on the faces of Merlin's friends, the physician gestured that they should lift the stretcher. "Let's get him out of the snow and back to my chambers so I can take a better look," he said.

The group hurried through the castle, with Gwaine and Arthur carrying the stretcher. The two men had refused to give up their burden even when several men had rushed up and volunteered to take over.

Merlin did not waken during his transport; nor did he so much as twitch while Leon and Lancelot gently transferred him onto the patient bed under Gaius' supervision.

Once his ward was settled, Gaius gently began to free Merlin from the cloaks he'd been wrapped in, handing them off to Arthur and Lancelot who were hovering directly beside the bed. Merlin grimaced and began to shift in his sleep, shivering now that his wet clothes were exposed to the air in the cool room.

With a shiver of his own, Lancelot went over to stoke up the fire only to realize that there was no fuel left to do so. "I'll go and get some wood, Gaius. It's freezing in here!" he said.

"That would be much appreciated, my boy," said the physician. As the dark haired knight retrieved the wood carrier and headed towards the door, Gaius began to strip Merlin's sodden tunics off of him. "Would one of you others please go to his room and fetch him a change of clothes?" he asked. "We need to get him changed into something dry."

"I'll do it!" said Gwaine before Arthur or Leon could claim the task. All three men had been feeling a bit useless as they'd stood by and watched Gaius help their friend.

Arthur watched Gwaine run towards the stairs up to Merlin's room, and decided to help in his own way by pulling off his servant's boots without waiting to be asked. The Prince scowled when they dripped water onto the floor as they were upturned. "How can he wear these?" Arthur asked. "They seem more hole than leather."

Gaius paused and looked at him for a moment before replying. "Repairs are expensive, Arthur, and he has not the coin. He also only has one pair and cannot do without them for the many days he would have to wait for the cobbler to fix them."

"Oh… I see," said the Prince looking at his own fine boots guiltily. "I should have realized…"

By then Leon had also thought of a way to help, "Gaius, I'll get some blankets. Where do you keep them?" he asked.

"Ah yes, I should have told Gwaine to bring the one from Merlin's room," said the physician, without looking up. Merlin had begun to toss his head and mumble in his discomfort, so Gaius placed a hand on the young servant's chest and leaned in to murmur softly, trying to calm him. Once the boy had stilled, Gaius turned to the Senior Knight and said, "There may be another in the wardrobe, Sir Leon, but if you could get your hands on one or two more it will be helpful. He is very feverish, but his extremities are cold from being out so long in the snow."

"I've got plenty I can spare, I'll be right back with them," said Leon first retrieving the thin blanket in Gaius' wardrobe and then calling up to Gwaine to bring Merlin's before leaving the physician's chambers on his quest for more.

As Gaius removed Merlin's last shirt, he frowned and leaned in to take a look at a large area of deep bruising around Merlin's left elbow. "What's this?" the physician asked, pointing at the injury and turning his head towards Arthur. "How did this happen? From the colour, it is newly formed."

The Prince stepped in more closely, his eyes widening at the sight of the discolouration. "I'm not sure," he answered, "But it must have happened when he fell off of his horse."

"He fell?" asked the physician sharply. "You did not tell me that. Does he have other injuries?"

"I… I never thought to check…," stammered Arthur. "We were just so glad to catch him before he fell into the water, and he was so ill… I just…I never thought to check…" The Prince kept staring at the bruise, horrified at the thought that he may have caused his servant more suffering through his negligence. "Is it broken?" Arthur managed to choke out.

Gaius covered Merlin with the blanket and then checked the young man thoroughly for any sign of head injury. On hearing that his ward had fallen from a horse, the physician's first worry was that this, rather than the fever, may have been the cause of Merlin's disorientation.

Relieved when he found no evidence of any serious trauma, Gaius took a moment to dry Merlin off as best he could with the blanket, and then checked the young man's elbow.

"No, it's just a bruise. I don't feel any damage," said Gaius finally, looking up briefly before continuing to examine his ward. Although the physician tried to be gentle, Merlin whimpered softly and resisted the probing fingers, and each small sound of his friend's distress made Arthur wince.

Gwaine came bounding down the stairs just as Gaius was finishing up. "I brought his nightclothes," the knight said, handing them to Gaius along with the blanket from Merlin's bed. "They were the only things I could find."

"Thank you Gwaine," the physician said, and quickly the three men changed Merlin into the dry clothes, and covered him with the blankets.

"How is he?" Gwaine finally dared to ask.

Gaius frowned, "As you know, his fever is very high, so there is a risk of convulsions," the physician explained. "And he is wheezing and I can hear sounds of congestion in his chest, but so far he does not seem to have developed a lung fever."

Both young nobles looked relieved to hear this. That dreaded illness caused many deaths each winter.

"From what I can see he does have a bad infection of the throat, and so I will need to treat that quickly," Gaius continued. "It will take me a few minutes to prepare the medications I need. Could one of you stay to help me get it into him once it is ready?"

"Yes, of course I will stay," answered Arthur. "Gwaine, you need to prepare for your mission to Westmoor, do you not?"

Gwaine scowled at the reminder, but he knew it was true, so he answered reluctantly, "Yes, Sire. I'd better do that, but please, tell Merlin that I will be in to see him as soon as I return tomorrow."

"Don't worry, Gwaine, he is in good hands," Arthur reassured the knight. "I'll make sure he has everything he needs."

"See that you do, Princess," said Gwaine. "It is the least he deserves from us, since we've both played a part in putting him in that bed." And on receiving a nod of confirmation from Arthur, Gwaine bid goodbye to Gaius and left the room.

Voices made themselves known to Merlin as he fought his way back to consciousness. Was that Gaius he heard? He seemed to be talking about someone. Someone quite ill from the few words Merlin was able to pick out of the jumble of voices, and the clinking noises made from what must be medicine bottles. Merlin didn't ask himself why Gaius would be treating a patient in Merlin's bedroom though.

Inwardly the warlock sighed – doing so outwardly just hurt his burning throat too much. He needed to get up and help Gaius with whoever it was. His mentor could not do everything on his own any more, he was getting on in years after all.

Merlin tried to force his eyes to open; to move his leg … or any part of his body for that matter, but it seemed like everything was aching and just so heavy; nothing would obey. Even that failed effort exhausted him. 'I'll just rest for a moment and try again' he decided, slumping back on his pillow.

That slight motion must have been noticed. "Merlin?" came a hesitant voice. "Can you hear me?" it persisted when the young servant made no immediate answer.

Merlin groaned to himself; it didn't look like he'd get that moment's rest after all, since whoever was talking seemed to know he was awake. The boy tried once again to open his eyelids, but only managed to wrinkle his brow, causing his head and neck both to pound in agony enough that his stomach began to roll in reaction. Not good! ... He didn't think he'd be able to turn or sit in time, if it decided to go as far as empty its contents.

Panic began to seize him, and he tensed his muscles, trying to turn on his side. This only caused his already laboured breaths to catch, and he started to cough, though so little air seemed to make its way into his lungs that it was more like choking.

He was frightened now and tried to call out to Gaius, but no sound came out; it only made the coughing worse - more desperate.

Suddenly Merlin felt himself pulled up to a sitting position, with a pair of hands supporting him around his shoulders. Voices babbled, though he couldn't make out what was being said and he was turned by yet more hands and made to lean over slightly, while someone tapped quite forcefully on his back. Finally he managed to cough out whatever had been blocking his breath, although he only had a few gulps of sweet air before the need to purge his stomach took over.

At last, though he was trembling and had still not managed to open his tightly clenched and now streaming eyes, his breathing eased and then deepened, causing a wave of such relief and exhaustion, that it dropped him, still seated, right into a deep sleep.

As Merlin slumped back into Arthur's arms, the Prince looked up anxiously at Gaius. "What just happened?" he asked. "Will he be alright?"

"I hope so Sire. I'm afraid his temperature is climbing; we will need to keep a close eye on him," answered Gaius, helping Arthur to lay the young servant back down. "I will know better once I get these draughts into him and see how well they work; we need to bring his fever down."

Together they managed to get Merlin to swallow the contents of four different bottles that Gaius had prepared without the boy rousing other than to grimace in his sleep and try to turn his head away to avoid the taste.

Once Merlin was settled again, Gaius went back to his workbench to return the empty containers and pick up the basin of cool water along with some cloths, while Arthur sat watching his servant.

Gaius soon returned and took the seat beside the Prince. Once the physician had dipped a cloth into the water, wrung it out and laid it carefully on his ward's forehead, he turned to face the royal. "Arthur," he said gently, "it will take some time for the draughts to take effect, and there is not much you can really do for him. Should you not return to your duties?"

Arthur continued to gaze sadly at his manservant, giving such a small shake of his head that Gaius was not sure if the Prince had heard him.

"It is the Yule Feast tonight … and tomorrow is Yule," the elderly man pressed softly.

The Prince sighed and shifted his eyes to meet those of the physician. "I know," he said. "You are right, but I can't leave until I see some sort of change in him; whether for the better, or…" and turning his gaze back to Merlin, he added, "Gaius, I just… need to know. How did I not see … and why would he ever think that collecting some gifts was more important to me…" but his voice cracked and he was unable to finish voicing his thought.

The physician just patted his hand in sympathy, standing when the door opened noisily behind them.

"I've brought back three, Gaius," Leon panted, coming into the room. He had apparently run all the way from his chambers with his armful of blankets.

Gaius scowled at the knight, "Merlin will surely thank you Sir Leon," he said, taking the pile and setting it neatly beside the bed. "But you should not be running; you were injured not three days ago, if you recall, and you must allow yourself to recover properly."

"Believe me, I do recall," Leon said with a wince, before adding "I'm fine, Gaius, and mostly because of the care that Merlin gave to me. I only wish to do what I can to return that favour."

Gaius shook his head. It seemed that there was more than enough guilt to go around, not least of all his own. After all, he had suspected Merlin was falling ill, and had done nothing about it; and he was not only the boy's mentor, he was also a physician!

Now it was three men who watched the unmoving young servant, content just to see that he seemed to be comfortable, and was breathing easily, at least for the moment.

Lancelot made his return not long afterward, carrying what looked to be enough wood to last for a month. The dark-haired knight grunted under the weight and he did not waste energy in speaking until he had transferred most of the burden into a stack against the wall.

"There, I think that will hold you for a few days, Gaius" he said at last, brushing remnants of bark and sawdust from his hands and cloak. "Now, how hot would you like me to get this fire burning?" he asked, and although his words were directed to the physician, his eyes never left the still form of his friend.

"The room needs to be warm, but not overly hot, Lancelot," answered Gaius, watching as the knight immediately set to work, lighting the fire.

It did not take very long for the warmth to reach Merlin's bed, and the young man seemed to enjoy the sensation even through his sleep. He started to shift slightly, and let out a sigh of what almost sounded like pleasure. His fingers tightened a little bit on the fabric of his blanket and then relaxed again, and with yet another sigh he stilled once more.

Gaius immediately went over and removed the cooling cloth from his ward's forehead, and replaced it with a new one before bending to check the boy's pulse. Satisfied, he placed a hand high on Merlin's right cheek, and then repeated the action on the left.

With a smile, he turned back around and faced the watching knights. "It's come down quite a bit," he said, causing all three young nobles to let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

"He is not out of the woods yet," said Gaius seriously, "but it is a good sign. Still, he is likely to have a few rough days ahead of him."

Arthur stood from where he was still sitting in the chair by the patient bed. "We will be here for him, Gaius. I will send a guard to stand near the door, and if you need anything, his only responsibility shall be to get it for you immediately.

"Thank you Sire," the physician said, "that is most generous of you."

"And now we had all best be back to our duties," said Arthur, looking over at Leon and Lancelot. "I also need to let Guinevere know how Merlin is, and I'm sure she will soon be here, wanting to help you care for him, Gaius."

And although the three nobles were each reluctant to leave their sleeping friend, they took their leave from the physician's quarters.

Gaius sat by Merlin's bedside. He'd taken the chair almost as soon as the door had shut behind the three knights and was glad to finally be alone with his ward. At last he could let down his professional demeanour and give into the tears that sprung to his eyes.

He'd just put another cooling cloth on Merlin's brow, and now reached down to take the boy's wrist. Ostensibly it was to measure his pulse, but the gentle tracing of Gaius' thumb over the top of Merlin's hand proved that the gesture was much more about concern than about healing.

"Oh my boy, how have we all missed this?" he asked sadly.

Chapter Text

Gaius kept close watch over Merlin, reluctant to go very far from the patient bed. Guilt kept him glued to his chair long after Arthur and the knights had left.

The physician admonished himself with a sad shake of his head. Even with his suspicions that the boy was falling ill, he had still not hesitated to send Merlin out to care for Leon and had later jumped to take advantage of the boy's selfless offer to do the medicine deliveries. He should have known better than anybody that Merlin would put everyone else's needs before his own. If Gaius had only had taken the few moments it would have required to examine his ward, Merlin would not be in this sorry state now.

Shaking his head, Gaius placed another cooling cloth on Merlin's head and said gently, "My boy, I am so sorry. It should never, ever have come to this."

For the most part, the young warlock slept on without moving. Gaius had no doubt that the spell he had warned the boy never to use on himself had caused this complete state of exhaustion. The physician only hoped that Merlin had enough strength left in him to put towards healing.

Gaius only realized that the noon bell had come and gone when his door opened, and a stricken-looking Sir Percival came slowly into the room followed by Sir Elyan, looking equally troubled.

The two knights only took a step or two before Percival said, "Afternoon, Gaius," distractedly, his eyes fully on Merlin. "May I…we… come in?"

"Yes, of course," said Gaius. "I assume you want to see how Merlin is doing?"

Percival and Elyan came more fully into the room, though they still did not come close to their friend's bed.

"Yes, but… I…we…need to apologize," said Percival, glancing over at Elyan as though for permission to continue.

Gaius waited to hear what they could possibly need to apologize for, and began to think he'd have to ask outright, since neither of the young knights seemed capable of speech.

"I'm really sorry, Gaius. It's our fault that Merlin is so ill!" Sir Elyan finally blurted out, almost as though it hurt him.

The physician looked from one knight to the other in confusion, "How could it possibly be your fault?" he asked.

"We took all of your wood," Percival answered, clearly distressed, "and that's why your chambers were cold and Merlin took ill."

Gaius gaped at them for a moment. "You took all of the wood," he said confused. He knew there had to be more to the story than thievery.

Merlin could hear some sort of conversation nearby and wondered if somebody was talking to him. He thought it might be Percival and Elyan who were speaking, but he could not get the words to behave. Only a few bits and pieces rang clear, and it took Merlin's jumbled mind a while to work out what they were talking about.

"Wood?" Merlin muttered, opening his eyes a crack and trying to focus on Percival, who had edged closer to the bed at hearing his friend speak. "Wood," Merlin repeated a little bit more confidently; he'd suddenly remembered why Percival wanted it. "Westmoor," the young warlock breathed, adding "Take it," and willing Percival to understand.

The knight lowered his eyes in guilt, but this only caused Merlin to become agitated and shift about on the bed, desperate to get his message across to his large friend.

Gaius pieced things together quickly. "Shush, now," he said, gently brushing the boy's hair off of his forehead and setting the cooling cloth back into place from where it had slipped. "It's okay, Percival and Elyan have all the wood they need." the physician murmured soothingly.

"Really?" Merlin asked, stilling and fixing his eyes on Gaius' to be sure he'd heard correctly.

"Really," Gaius confirmed, "Now go back to sleep. The people in Westmoor are all taken care of."

Merlin gave a trusting smile to his mentor and closed his eyes, asleep once again within seconds.

Gaius pulled the blanket up to Merlin's shoulders before turning to the watching knights. "You did not take the wood, Merlin gave it to you, and you are not to blame for his illness," he told them. "Besides, Merlin was ill even before news came of the fire in Westmoor."

"But… then how did he end up working right up until today?" Percival asked. "Should he not have been at home resting?"

"Indeed," answered Gaius. "I have been asking myself that very question all morning."

Just then Merlin sighed loudly in his sleep and turned over onto his side, the sound causing all eyes to return to him. Gaius hurried to check over his ward, testing his pulse and temperature. Satisfied, he turned back to Elyan and Percival, "Well, at least he is resting now, and I expect he will sleep for most of the rest of day."

"I guess we should leave him to it then," said Elyan, "But Gaius, we will come back every day to make sure you've got a good supply for the fire. When Lancelot told us you'd run out…"

"We never would have taken it if we'd known Merlin was not going to be able to replace it," cut in Percival.

Gaius smiled warmly at the two men, "I know you would not have, and I thank you both for the offer," the physician said as he walked the two to the door. He doubted that the young warlock had any idea just how much his friends cared about him.

Once Elyan and Percival had gone, Gaius was left alone with his ward for most of the afternoon. Arthur and his knights were busy with various Yule celebration events and could not really spare the time to sit with Merlin.

Even so, they did seem to find a wide range of excuses to bring them near the infirmary and since they were so close by, a short look in on their ill friend was only right, of course. Gaius could not help laughing when Sir Leon came in looking for his crossbow of all things, though at least the Senior Knight had finally admitted that yes, it really was Merlin he had come to check on.

One of the visitors was not so welcome.

Merlin had woken a little while earlier, in pain and delirious, so Gaius had quickly administered several draughts to help the boy. They had only just started to take affect when Lord Agravaine came striding into the room.

The Prince's Uncle pursed his lips in distaste at seeing Merlin in the patient bed, but spared him no more than that short glance before turning to Gaius.

"Ah, Physician, here you are," he said. "Imagine my surprise when Lord Owen came to me not long after the last bell and asked me why you had not returned to his rooms to care for his heir."

Gaius scowled. "The baby is fine, Lord Agravaine. I returned to my chambers last night when I deemed him recovered. I do have other patients to attend to."

"Well Lord Owen does not agree with your assessment," said Agravaine, "and I would remind you of his importance to Camelot. Since the guard on the door has told me that you have not left this room since midmorning, then may I assume that the 'other' patient is this servant?" he asked, sneering down at Merlin.

The young warlock's thoughts were muddled due to his fever, and he flinched at hearing the noble's angry tone apparently being directed at him. In his mind, Merlin was suddenly and somehow still in the wine cellar and failing in yet another duty. "I'll get it right away," he choked out, although he couldn't quite remember what it was he was supposed to be fetching. Still, he remembered that it was important and so ignoring a sudden flare up of pain in his throat, he tried to push himself up and get out of bed.

"Merlin, lie still; you are not going anywhere," he heard Gaius say and he felt the pressure of a hand pressing him back towards the bed. A wave of relief swept through the boy. Surely if Gaius was there and was telling him to stay where he was, then it was okay if he went back to sleep.

"Okay," Merlin whispered and with a grateful sigh he relaxed and allowed his eyes to slide closed.

Gaius took his time in putting another cooling cloth on Merlin's forehead, deliberately ignoring Agravaine as he did so. Only after ensuring that his ward's pillow and blanket were perfectly placed did the physician turn to face the dark haired man again.

"Merlin is very ill," said Gaius tightly, "and I will not leave him."

"He looks fine to me," countered Agravaine. "He even said he would go back to his duties, as well he should do. It seemed to me that it was only your insistence that prevented it."

Gaius stared open mouthed at the man, unable to believe the idiocy of what he'd just heard.

"But no matter, now he is asleep and so you may leave him to it for a time and use your skills for more esteemed patients. I'm sure the Prince would agree," he said, gloating at what he thought would be a winning argument.

"I would agree to what, Uncle?" asked Arthur, who had just come into the room. Without waiting for Agraivaine to answer, the Prince crossed the room quickly and came to stand beside the patient bed. "Gaius, how is Merlin? I wanted to check on him one last time before I headed to the Feast."

"He is doing as well as can be expected, after working for three days when he should have been resting and then being out in the snow for an extended period," spat the physician, who was still seething over Agravaine's ludicrous conclusions.

On seeing Arthur's eyes go wide at his tone, Gaius added more calmly, "I'm sorry Sire, his fever is still very high, and he has been delirious whenever he has woken." Looking intently over at Lord Agravaine, he said flatly, "Your Uncle wishes for me to leave him in order to care for Lord Owen's child."

Arthur turned to Agravaine with surprise, "Is this true, Uncle? Is the baby that ill that Gaius should leave Merlin in such a state?"

"Not… as such, Arthur," the dark haired man began. "However, Lord Owen would feel much more comfortable if the physician were close by. The babe is his only child, and his heir," he reminded Arthur, "And since Merlin is just a servant, I think it wise to concede to Owen's wishes."

"I'm sure the Steward can spare one of the chambermaids to keep watch here," Agravaine added hastily when Arthur began to frown, "since in any case all of the guests will be at the Feast and will not need to be attended in their rooms during that time."

To Agravaine's surprise, since he'd thought he had found the perfect solution for all concerned, Arthur's frown only deepened.

"Uncle, Merlin may be a servant, but he is a servant who has been pushed to the side far too often over the last couple of days," Arthur explained. "He has been working for the benefit of everyone else while his own needs have been left untended. That's how he has become so ill."

Merlin began to shift in his sleep. "Artur…" he mumbled, never opening his eyes. "Coin," he whispered almost too quietly to hear.

Arthur looked at Gaius in confusion, but the physician just shrugged.

"No, Uncle. Gaius is needed right here," the Prince decided. "If Lord Owen is worried over his babe, then I shall ensure that an experienced child minder is sent to help care for him. I can do no more than that for him tonight."

Agravaine took a step toward to his nephew. "Arthur, this boy is too close to you. As the future King, you must have your priorities straight; you are not thinking things through properly," he argued.

"On the contrary Uncle, I have thought of little else since Merlin went missing this morning," the Prince answered. "And now that he is home, and since he is ill due largely to my negligence, he will be cared for by Gaius until he is well again."

Agravaine tried to think of another way to get through to his nephew and finally pasted on a smile. "I understand why you would feel guilty about that, Arthur, after all the need to care for the people of Camelot runs in your very blood," he said. "But the boy did not seem so ill to me when I came across him asleep in the wine cellars during the dinner yesterday."

Arthur narrowed his eyes making Agravaine certain that he had successfully discredited the annoying servant. "In fact, I think he is deluding you in order to escape his duties just as he did last night. It is exactly the type of thing such a boy might do," he dared to add.

Ignoring the look of outrage that Gaius directed at him, Agravaine changed to a tone that exuded helpfulness and said, "I have dealt with a servant or two in my time, Arthur. I sent Merlin straight back to work last night, and if you will but allow me, I shall do so again now. Then we can see to Lord Owen with no more of this foolishness over a servant."

Arthur gaped at his Uncle, "If you came across him asleep when he was supposed to be at work, then that is proof enough to me of his illness," he said. "Merlin would never try to delude me, Uncle," Arthur explained. "He is the most loyal person I've ever known. You did him a grave disservice by forcing him back to work last night."

"Oh, well, you know the boy better than I do, I suppose," said Agravaine, trying to appease the Prince when it became apparent that his tactics had failed. "If you are so certain of his illness, then of course we must look for an alternative way of assisting Lord Owen. I hope you will forgive me for judging your servant too hastily."

"Cloak," whispered Merlin suddenly, and the young warlock began tossing his head back and forth, drawing both Gaius and Arthur back to his side.

Agravaine decided that a hasty exit while his nephew was otherwise occupied was his wisest course of action.

Gwen was the next of Merlin's friends to drop by. She arrived just not long after Arthur had departed and just as Gaius had begun to make himself a pot of tea.

"How is Merlin?" Gwen asked as she came into the room. Without waiting for Gaius to answer she walked towards the patient bed to see for herself.

As the physician joined her, she said, "I'm sorry I'm so late, Gaius. I know I said I would help you take care of Merlin, but I'd already promised the Steward I'd help him today. With the Yule Feast and the refugees to see to, he needed the extra hands."

"I understand, Gwen," said Gaius. "In any case, I've been able to manage on my own. Merlin has mostly been asleep and that's the best thing for him right now."

Gwen gazed down at her friend, "I was so relieved when I heard he'd been found," she said. Looking back anxiously at the physician she asked, "Will he be alright?"

"I believe so," answered Gaius, "although his fever has been spiking and that's caused quite a bit of delirium."

"Is there something I can do to help now that I am here?" Gwen asked, worriedly.

Gaius thought for a moment, "No, I've got things under control for now," he said finally. He did not want to admit that he also was not ready to hand over Merlin's care to another just yet. "But if you could come tomorrow that would be very helpful."

Gwen leaned over to smooth out a wrinkle in the young man's blanket. "I'll be here early, I promise," she said gently, more to Merlin than to Gaius.

Merlin must have recognized that his friend was close. "Gwen," he breathed.

The serving girl watched for a moment to see if Merlin would rouse more fully. When it was obvious that he would stay fast asleep she gave his cheek a small caress and said "I'll see you tomorrow, Merlin."

Gaius walked her to the door and returned, collecting his tea before he took his seat by Merlin's side once more. As he took Merlin's wrist to measure the boy's pulse again, the physician wondered what the night would have in store for them.

At first, Gaius' fears about what the night might hold seemed to be unfounded. Merlin continued to sleep soundly for several hours after Gwen had gone.

His ward was still asleep by the time the sixth bell rang, so the elderly physician decided to leave Merlin's side long enough get some dinner and mix a batch of a draught he planned to give the boy for his throat. Once the mixture was set aside to cool, Gaius asked the guard outside the door to bring a pail of cold water. He used some of it to make himself a fresh pot of tea and poured the rest into the large dish beside the patient bed.

Setting his teacup beside the bowl, he took a clean cloth and dipped it into the cool water before wringing it out and placing the cloth gently on Merlin's forehead.

It was then that the boy's nightmares started.

Merlin had suffered from them since he'd first come to Camelot. Gaius supposed it was rather inevitable given the pressure the boy was under, the horrible decisions he'd often had to make and what was at stake when he was wrong.

"I'm sorry I'm so late, Sire," Merlin suddenly cried out in his sleep, beginning to toss his head in distress. "I… I couldn't find the ham!"

It would almost have been funny, except that the young warlock had begun to shiver, a sure sign that his fever was on the rise again.

"Hush, Merlin," said Gaius, reaching over to test the boy's temperature and scowling when he confirmed his suspicions. "Arthur has his dinner already, don't worry about it."

Merlin calmed for a time but then kicked out trying to escape from his blankets, "Oh no!" he croaked, "I need to get the rat out of the boots; Arthur can't go into battle with his feet bare."

Gaius barely stopped his ward from falling right out of the bed, the boy was so frantic to get to his chore.

"Merlin, it's all right," Gaius crooned, "the battle is won." The tone seemed to do the trick, for the young man stilled and fell back into sleep once again.

And so it continued. As Merlin's fever rose, the dreams got more and more terrifying. What started as mistakes in his everyday tasks soon evolved into errors with his magic. Finally he began to relive all of his hardest decisions, making the wrong choices every time and being forced to deal with the disastrous results.

Gaius eventually managed to get a dose of sedative into him between episodes, but that did not help the boy for very long and the dreams worsened yet again.

"No, no! Please let me down!" Merlin choked out, thrashing in his bed as tears leaked from his eyes even in his sleep. "I don't want to burn. Arthur, please let me down!"

Gaius' heart broke to hear his ward having to suffer through his greatest fear. He was so busy trying to hold Merlin down that he did not notice Lancelot had come into the room until the knight said, "It looks like you could use some help, Gaius."

"You could say that, my boy," said Gaius with relief as the dark haired knight rushed to help him hold down Merlin's kicking legs. "His fever has gone up and I cannot keep him calm. I fear I only have one option left."

"What's that, Gaius? Is there a draught?" Lancelot asked. "Would you like me to fetch it for you? Just tell me where."

Gaius looked at the knight, "No, not a potion," he said sadly. "I believe we need to restrain him."

"Restrain?" asked Lancelot, looking confused, "What do you mean?" But almost immediately his eyes widened in realization. "You want to tie him to the bed?" he hissed, horrified by the idea.

"It's the only way," Gaius said. "And only until he calms. Right now he is pushing up his fever even more with his exertions. He is doing himself no good and I cannot treat him because he keeps fighting me in his nightmares."

Lancelot still looked unconvinced, but he did not object when Gaius handed him two wide but soft linen straps and showed him how to wrap one around Merlin's wrist and then secure it through the ring attached to the edge of the patient bed for just such occasions.

Together the two repeated the process on Merlin's ankles, and they quickly had the young man's movements restricted enough that Gaius could resume his treatment.

"Arthur, please let me go!" Merlin whimpered, "I won't hurt anyone, I only use it for good. Please don't leave me here!"

"Merlin, stop," begged Lancelot, as the warlock continued to struggle and try to free himself. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked Gaius, when Merlin just pulled even harder on the restraints in his panic.

"We have to get his fever down," the physician said, placing a cooling cloth on the warlock's forehead. "Here, make sure he does not shake that off."

Once he was certain that Lancelot had a secure hold, Gaius wet an additional cloth and used it to sponge down his ward's neck. That done he lifted Merlin's nightshirt and applied the cloth to the boy's chest and arms continuing all the way to his armpits. Merlin resisted vehemently, arching his back and using his feet to push away from the bed, trying his best to get away from the cold touch.

"There, we will see if that helps," Gaius said. "Keep the cloth on his forehead while I get the fever reducing draft."

It took both men to administer the dose. Merlin twisted his head fiercely as soon as the physician pinched his nose and Lancelot had to hold the boy's head firmly and rub his throat to get him to swallow.

The effect was not immediate, but Merlin stopped struggling eventually. Gaius suspected it was more from exhaustion caused by his exertions than from the cooling measures or medications the physician had been applying.

Now the boy had his eyes screwed tightly shut and was panting, his uneven gasps the only noise in the chambers as Lancelot and Gaius sat solemnly by his side.

"Merlin, we are here, we won't let anything hurt you," said Lancelot gently, hoping that his words would reach through to his friend now that the boy was quiet.

It must have helped since Merlin turned his head towards the knight, and although he did not open his eyes, his breathing calmed and he finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

A little while later, once Gaius was certain that the boy would stay calm, he rose and began to remove the restraint on Merlin's wrist.

Lancelot gestured at the other wrist to ask whether he should do the same and at the physician's nod, the dark haired knight let out a breath of relief and untied the strap.

"Will he be alright, Gaius?" Lancelot dared to ask once Merlin was freed. He'd been holding back the question since he'd first decided to stop in after the Yule Feast, afraid to hear the answer given the state his friend had been in at the time.

The elderly physician looked up from where he was gently rubbing salve on his ward's ankle. The boy's fighting had caused chafing and bruising at the places where he'd been bound, and although it was not severe, Gaius could not bear to leave the marks untended.

"I believe so. His fever has come down somewhat and he is young and strong," Gaius answered. Returning to his ministrations, he gently wrapped Merlin's ankle and set it down before moving on to a wrist to repeat the process. Once Gaius had finished bandaging both wrists and ankles and had pulled the blanket lovingly up to the boy's shoulders, the physician sat down and once more applied a cooling cloth to his ward's forehead. "We'll know better tomorrow," Gaius admitted with a sigh. "I can only hope that the reduction in fever, and the fact that the congestion in his chest has not worsened indicates that he is beating the infection in his throat.

Lancelot's eyes stayed fixed on the warlock's face; Merlin looked so young in sleep. "He will be fine," the knight said softly. "He has to be…"

"Gaius, why don't you get some sleep?" Lancelot said, when the elderly physician gave a weary yawn. "I imagine it's been a very long day for you, and Merlin will need you tomorrow. I can keep watch until morning."

Gaius studied his ward for a few moments, and checked his temperature and his pulse before turning to face the dark haired knight. "I think I will take you up on that," he said gratefully. "Merlin should sleep for some time now, but come and wake me if you have any concerns."

With that, the physician rose and headed towards his sleeping area at the edge of the room.

Before he'd quite reached it, Lancelot called out, "Gaius, why don't you take Merlin's room? I'm sure you will get a better rest up there and I will call if I need you."

"That is a very good idea," answered the physician and pausing only to pick up his nightclothes, he turned and slowly made his way up the stairs.

Thankfully Merlin rested peacefully for what was left of the night, allowing Gaius to do the same. Even Lancelot was able to doze off a few times during his vigil.

The physician rose just after the dawn light started to filter into the room. He checked on his ward, glad to find that the boy was soundly asleep, as was Lancelot who was still in the chair by his bedside. Merlin had turned himself onto his side at some point and pulled his blanket up to his ears, snuggling into its warmth and comfort. Or perhaps Lancelot had pulled it there; Gaius couldn't be certain but the sight brought a brief smile to his lips.

Leaving the young men to their rest, the physician headed quietly over to his worktable, taking out the draughts he wanted ready for Merlin. Once he finished that, he made himself a quick breakfast.

Merlin began to stir before Gaius had finished his tea, waking Lancelot with a start. It did not take Merlin's caregivers very long to see that although the boy was not combative like he had been the night before, they now had a new problem.

Merlin had begun to mumble in his delirium.

To mumble… in the language of the old religion.

Lancelot looked at Gaius in alarm when the warlock spoke the first words. "What should we do?" the knight asked.

"Well, it's clear we cannot allow anyone in when he is like this," Gaius answered with a frown. "It is his fever; I'm afraid it is rising again."

The physician quickly went to the door and summoned one of the guards that Arthur had ordered to stay there. "Merlin has had a very rough night," Gaius told him. "And he has only just fallen asleep. I do not wish him to be disturbed so please do not permit anyone to enter the room until I have come to tell you otherwise."

"But what about the Prince?" asked the guard worriedly. "What if he objects?"

Gaius looked at the man sternly, "You must tell him that Merlin's life is at risk if he is disturbed," the physician insisted.

The immediate look of concern on the guard's face told Gaius that the order would be followed. Confident that his ward was in no danger of accidentally revealing his magic, the physician closed the door.

"Gaius, I will stay and give you a hand if you'll have me," Lancelot said as soon as the physician had come back into the room. The young knight knew that Gaius would need his help since not even Gwen, who had intended to come early, would be permitted to enter the chambers.

"Thank you, my boy. That would be much appreciated," said the elderly physician.

It took most of the morning for the two men to get Merlin's fever back under control. At midmorning things were at their worst; the young warlock was thrashing in his delirium and trying to cast spells.

Lancelot looked anxiously about wondering if anything would happen. "Gaius, what is he saying?" the knight asked.

"He seems mainly to be trying to conjure strawberries…," answered the physician, unable to hide a hint of bewilderment. "… and occasionally roses, although I've heard him incant an unlocking spell or two, and another one for animating objects. That last one would seem to … well... cause the subject's trousers to … drop."

Lancelot's eyes widened, "Is it dangerous?" he asked, wondering why Gaius did not seem to be particularly worried.

"Not really," the physician said. "He is not completing the incantations and is also jumbling the words around. I believe Merlin's magic is in a protective state and is preventing him from doing anything harmful."

Lancelot nodded thoughtfully; that seemed reasonable.

"Besides, a sorcerer needs to maintain a perfect focus in order for the spell to manifest," Gaius added. "That is why most people even with strong inborn abilities in magic take years of study to make it work, and most need spells and objects to narrow the focus on even then."

The physician paused to sponge off his ward's face, hushing the boy and trying calm his tossing before continuing. "Merlin is exceptional in his ability to concentrate and reach a point where he is almost instantly ready to cast. I've never seen anything like it," Gaius said fondly, "But he cannot do that while delirious."

The physician's reassuring words did not stop Gaius from paling when Merlin practically sobbed, "No! I don't want to do it again," and then mumbled out some words that Lancelot had not heard before.

"Oh my boy," said the physician sadly as he gently sponged Merlin's face. "Hush now… that's the one that has got you into this trouble."

"What do you mean?" asked Lancelot. "I thought Merlin took ill several days ago. Do you mean he cast this illness on himself?" The knight looked at his friend with disbelief, "Why would he do such a thing?" he asked in confusion.

Gaius looked up, "No, not the illness," he explained. "That spell is used to suppress the ill person's symptoms. But it is only ever meant to be used for a very short time – hours at most, and never on oneself."

Lancelot could only shake his head. He was not surprised to hear that Merlin had tried to use such a spell. "And by hiding that he was ill, he just made it worse, didn't he?" the knight concluded.

"Indeed," Gaius said grimly. "He must have felt that he had no choice."

The two men sat silently with their thoughts for a time. Both knew that they'd contributed to Merlin's desperation and that the only thing they could do now was help him fight his way back to health.

Chapter Text

Just past the noon bell, Merlin's disgruntled murmur of 'headache, Gaius' coupled with the boy scrunching his eyes in displeasure brought a small smile to the physician's face.

Merlin had continued drifting in and out of consciousness for the last hour but had stopped using the language of the old religion during his brief periods of wakefulness. Although Gaius was not happy to know his ward was in pain, the mumble was the sign he'd been looking for that the boy was no longer in danger of revealing his secret.

Unsurprisingly, it was Gwen and Arthur who were the first to visit, seemingly only moments after Lancelot had told the guards that Merlin was permitted to have visitors once again.

"How is he, Gaius?" asked Arthur walking over towards the worktable where the physician was busy preparing some sort of brownish grey potion. The Prince cringed, glad he would not be on the receiving end of the draught.

"He is asleep just now, and has not often been coherent when awake I'm afraid," said Gaius, peering into the flask and frowning at the liquid inside. The old man shook the container vigorously and held it up to inspect it again. Apparently satisfied, he set it aside, only then turning back towards the Prince and adding, "But there has been some improvement since this morning, so I am optimistic."

"I guess that is better than nothing," said Arthur although he could not help feeling disappointed. He had certainly not expected to find Merlin recovered enough to be back at his chores, but the Prince had hoped he would at least be able to talk to his servant. Sadly, Arthur left Gaius to finish pouring the potion from the flask into various bottles that were lined up on his countertop and headed over to the patient bed to where Gwen and Lancelot were already talking quietly.

"I'm sorry for missing the training session this morning, Sire," Lancelot tried to apologize as the Prince joined them. "But ..."

Arthur waved a hand to cut him off. "When you did not show up, I knew you must be here," he said, finally daring to take a close look at his servant. Taking in the dark circles under Merlin's eyes, his pallor and his sweat-plastered hair, the Prince added gently, "I'm glad he had a friend nearby to help him through this."

"Yes, but I think it is time for me to take over, and for you to get some sleep," Gwen said to the dark haired knight. "Have you been up all night?"

"Yes, mostly," Lancelot answered. "It was… it was not a good one," he added softly, "But Merlin seems to be a little bit better now."

Both Gwen and Arthur frowned at this. To their eyes, Merlin looked terribly ill, and they hated to think about how much worse that meant he must have been while they had been busy celebrating at the Yule feast.

Gaius arrived with his hands full of bottles. "Yes he is calm now at least, but his fever is still high, and the infection in his throat concerns me," he told the three watchers as he placed the draughts on the table by the patient bed.

"But I do agree with Gwen that you need to go and get some rest, Lancelot," he added, turning to face the young knight. "You have been a great help, but it would not do for you to fall ill as well."

"I will only leave if you are certain you don't need me," Lancelot said reluctantly.

Gaius smiled warmly, "No, Gwen and I can manage," he said, "And I promise I will send for you if there is any change in his condition."

Lancelot leaned in to whisper, "I've got to go Merlin, but I will be back later."

He was surprised to hear his friend respond, "'s good, Gerard's scabrd," almost too quietly to hear, though Merlin still seemed to be asleep.

Giving the warlock's arm a last squeeze, he turned to Arthur and said, "With your leave, Sire," and with a nod towards Gwen and Gaius, the dark haired knight left the room.

Much to Gaius' surprise, Arthur immediately took the seat that Lancelot had vacated, and set about refreshing the cooling cloth that had slipped down over Merlin's eyes. The physician shared a quick, knowing smile with Gwen. The Prince was likely unaware of how much concern he was showing.

"Thank you, Sire," Gaius said kindly. "Now if you would help me rouse him, I need to administer a draught for his throat."

Arthur tried to hide his eagerness at the possibility of seeing his servant awake. "Come on, you idiot," he said fondly, giving the boy's shoulder a gentle shake. "Gaius has something horrid for you to drink, and I want to enjoy watching. You've slept long enough."

Merlin shifted slightly, allowing Arthur to slip an arm behind his shoulders to raise him, but did not open his eyes or acknowledge the Prince's presence. Arthur sighed but held his servant steady as Gaius and Gwen managed to get Merlin to swallow. The Prince could not stop a frown of concern when the boy did not make even the slightest grimace at the foul-tasting medicine.

"Will he really be all right, Gaius?" Arthur asked uncertainly as he settled Merlin onto his pillow and placed the cooling cloth back on his servant's forehead. "It is so … disquieting… to see him like this."

"I…we can only wait and see," the physician answered slowly. "But I think he will be fine if we just give it some time."

"I thought he just had a cold," the Prince said, continuing to gaze at his servant. "If I had known otherwise, I would never have sent him out to get those cloaks, no matter who they were for," he added, taking Gwen's hand and giving her an apologetic smile.

"And I would not have wanted you to, Arthur. Neither would your knights, I'm certain," the serving girl said.

"Cloak," Merlin broke in. Some of what his caregivers were saying had obviously filtered into the boy's muddled brain, and he began to shift in agitation. "Cloak," he said again.

"Hush, Merlin," Gaius said, laying his hands on his ward's shoulders to still the boy. "It's all right, we have the cloak. Go back to sleep."

To the relief of his watchers, Merlin gave a sigh and went limp, falling deeply asleep again in moments.

"Sire, even with 'just a cold' a person does need to rest in order for them to heal, or the illness risks getting much worse," said Gaius, busying himself by bringing the empty medicine bottle back to his worktable. "Merlin has not been given the time to do that, but you are not alone in the blame. The boy himself also has to take a share of it. He has a very bad habit of hiding things when he is hurt or ill, and I think he has been doing that in this case."

"Does the idiot not realize that he deserves the same consideration as any other man when he is ill?" snapped Arthur, getting angry at the whole situation.

"I'm afraid he does not, Sire," answered the physician.

"What?" Arthur was shocked. "How could that be?"

"Well… all of his life he has been told that his own worth is less than that of others, and when one is told as much so often, one comes to believe it," Gaius replied sadly.

Arthur stared open mouthed for a moment, not believing that his self-assured servant could feel that way. But the Prince quickly recalled how often Uther had said that commoners were of little value. That was bad enough, but it suddenly dawned on Arthur that even among the poor peasants in Merlin's hometown, the boy would have been ostracized because he was … fatherless.

The Prince gripped Gwen's hand even harder, and glanced over at her to see that she had tears in her eyes.

Gaius also thought about it as he put the bottles away. Even though Merlin now knew that he was important because he was linked to the future of Arthur and Albion, this didn't really help his ward's sense of self-worth. In fact, in many ways it had made things worse since the destiny of 'Emrys' had often forced the boy to deny the needs of Merlin the young man.

The three quickly had to put their musings behind them when Merlin began to cough weakly and all of their attention returned to tending to him.

Once they had Merlin comfortably asleep again, Arthur rose from his seat. "I will leave him in your hands now," the Prince said to Gaius and Gwen with a touch of reluctance. "I've stayed longer than I really should; I must go and spend some time with my Father."

"Of course, Sire," said Gaius. "Thank you for taking time out of your duties to visit."

"I suspect that I will not be the last to stop by," said Arthur with a smile. "Judging by our session this morning, apparently most of my Round Table have very pressing duties at this end of the castle today. I think Guinevere may need to play the doorman once they find out that you are permitting Merlin to have visitors again, Gaius."

Gaius and Gwen both chuckled at this, especially when Merlin began to shift and breathed out what sounded like 'knights'.

Arthur's prediction soon came true. Leon arrived only moments after the Prince had departed. Throughout that afternoon, each of the knights dropped by at least once, though Gaius did not allow any of them to stay for very long.

Percival came on three different occasions. He said little, but each time he brought something with him that he was 'sure Gaius would need'. Shortly after Leon had gone, he arrived for the first time, carrying a huge armful of firewood. Close to mid-afternoon he came back with two buckets full to the brim with cold water straight from the well. Lastly, just before the sixth bell, he entered the chambers with a large, fragrant bushel of fresh herbs that he said his mother had always sworn by for ailments of the throat.

Gwaine also came bearing gifts. In his case, it was a flagon of fine wine mulled with honey and spices. The innkeeper had sent it for Merlin and had guaranteed that the mixture would have the young servant back on his feet within two days. Gwaine volunteered to test it out with his friend, and although skeptical about its healing properties, the knight was certain that the wine would make Merlin's convalescence much more fun.

Gaius gladly took all of the offerings, and was particularly happy to find that the herbs from Percival were ones that he was running low on.

Unfortunately for his worried friends, Merlin's fever continued to rage, leaving him restless and confused during their visits. As a result, although he woke often, the boy had no real awareness of what was happening around him, where he was, or exactly who was with him.

All Gaius could do was to reassure them that the young man's fever was slightly lower than it had been the day earlier, and that his throat infection seemed to be better as well.

Merlin had just fallen asleep when, shortly after the sixth bell, a knock came at the door.

"Come," the physician called wearily, wondering which of the knights it was this time.

"I've brought you some dinner," came the booming voice of the Steward, as he and George came through the door, each carrying a tray of something that smelled delicious. "You must be hungry."

Gwen jumped up to help them set the food down on Gaius table. "Thank you," she said before hurrying over to where the physician kept his plates and forks. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late. Now that you mention it, I'm starving!"

"Your brother was over helping out with the refugees, and he told me you had been with Gaius caring for Merlin all afternoon," said the Steward as he and George took the steaming bowls of food off the trays. "I decided that it was only right to bring you all something to eat," he added. "I've brought some good stew for Merlin too, Gaius. Is he up to eating it?"

"As you can see, he is asleep just now and I do not want to wake him," answered the physician, getting up from the seat beside his ward and heading over to the table. "But he should be able to manage a few bites in a little while. Unfortunately, I doubt he will really be aware of what he is eating," he added.

George looked up from where he was frowning at a dirty spot he had found on one of Gaius' forks. "That is unfortunate," said the young man. "I have managed to procure a small piece of cook's special Yule cake for him."

Returning his attention to the fork, George picked up a napkin and wiped vigorously at the dirt speck for a moment. Apparently satisfied, he adjusted the location of the plate that Gwen had lain out and carefully aligned the now-clean fork into place beside it.

Content that the table was set to an acceptable standard, George picked up the small bowl containing the cake. "I shall ensure that this is wrapped properly. That way it will keep for another day when he is able to appreciate it," he said.

"That is very kind of you," Gaius said with a smile of amusement at the young man's seriousness. "I am sure he will enjoy it immensely when he is feeling better."

"Yes, I hope he will," said George softly, looking over at Merlin with what could only be called fondness. "Of all of the Yule foods, this is my own favourite. It is why I asked cook if I might bring some for him." As soon as the words left his mouth, the young man reddened with embarrassment at having exposed something as unprofessional as emotion. He quickly turned and set about filling the dinner plates.

Once Gwen and Gaius were seated, the Steward gestured that they should go ahead and start eating. "I will come back with something else for you tomorrow at lunchtime," he added. "And perhaps some soup for Merlin. Would that be beneficial for him?"

"Yes, that would be perfect," answered Gaius gratefully, taking a piece of the warm white bread that George had just cut from the loaf.

"Good. Then we shall leave you to enjoy your meal," said the Steward. "Just send word if you need something else tonight."

Gaius and Gwen had just finished eating and had started to clear away the plates when Merlin stirred again.

"Good timing, my boy," said Gaius to himself as he crossed the room towards the patient bed. After checking his ward's temperature the physician said, "Gwen, I want to wake him to check his throat. Let us see if we can get some of that stew into him while he is up."

While Gaius talked softly to his ward, rousing the boy and helping him to sit up, Gwen put a small portion of the still-warm meat and potatoes into a bowl and mashed it up, adding enough sauce for the mixture to be easy to swallow. Once she was satisfied, she brought the bowl over and sat down beside her friend.

After Gaius had finished his examination, Gwen put a spoon into Merlin's hand. "Steward has brought some dinner for you," she told her friend. "Can you feed yourself?"

Merlin looked at his spoon in confusion, "I….dinner?" he said, not really understanding what he was meant to do.

"Yes, and it is it is delicious. Try a bite for me," she said, taking his hand and helping him dip his spoon into the bowl." The small prompt did the trick, and Merlin soon finished most of his stew. Once he'd finished, Gwen set the bowl and spoon aside, and helped her friend to lie back down.

As she pulled the blanket up to cover him, Merlin looked sleepily into Gwen's eyes and whispered, "Mother, am I ill?"

A wave of fondness broke over the serving girl, and she bent and kissed her friend's forehead. "Yes, Merlin, but I'm right here to take care of you," she reassured him, "so just go to sleep.'

Whether Merlin felt safe because he thought he was under his mother's protection, or whether it was simply coincidence, the small contented sigh that the young warlock gave as he fell back to sleep marked a turning point.

Gaius examined his ward as Gwen was clearing away Merlin's dishes and shortly after placing his palm on his ward's forehead, the physician turned to the serving girl with a smile. "His fever seems to have broken," he said. "Thank the Gods!"

Later that evening, Gaius was sitting at his table with a freshly made pot of tea when a knock sounded at the door. It was soon followed by Sir Lancelot hesitantly coming into the room.

"Good evening, Gaius," said the dark-haired knight. "I saw Gwen a little while ago and she told me that Merlin was doing better … I guess I just wanted to see for myself."

"Yes, he is," answered Gaius, indicating that Lancelot could go over to his friend's bedside. "His fever broke a little while ago."

The knight smiled at the news. Looking down at the young warlock he said, "He certainly looks much more peaceful now than he did last night!"

"Indeed," Gaius agreed, "although he is exhausted from his struggles, and I believe he will stay asleep until at least morning."

"You must be tired too, Gaius," said Lancelot, turning to face the elderly physician. "I know you've sent Gwen home, but if you'd like I could stay and keep an eye on Merlin while you get some sleep. I've rested for most of the afternoon after all."

The physician looked at Lancelot intently for a few moments before nodding slowly. "Yes, I believe that may be a good idea," he admitted. "It has been rather a strenuous day."

As Gaius expected, Merlin slept soundly, barely even moving during the night. In turn, both the physician and Sir Lancelot also slept well. Gaius had once more taken Merlin's small room, and had insisted that the dark-haired knight should rest on Gaius' bed. Unlike the previous night, Merlin did not require constant surveillance, so there was no reason for Lancelot to spend the entire time sitting at his friend's bedside.

The sun was fully up by the time Gaius came downstairs. He stretched and with a last yawn headed over to check on his ward. He was happy to find that Merlin was still comfortably asleep and had only the slightest remnants of fever.

Lancelot stirred as Gaius was preparing breakfast. "He had a quiet night," the knight said, taking the cup of tea that Gaius pushed over to him. "I sat up with him for a while after you'd gone to bed, but he didn't wake even once."

"I'm not surprised, really," said Gaius, after swallowing a bite of the cheese he'd cut from the large piece that the Steward had left the night before. "He is still recovering from that spell he used on himself. Once his fever broke his body demanded rest."

Lancelot cut himself a piece cheese and asked, "When do you think he will wake?"

"It could be any time, I suppose," answered Gaius, "although more likely towards lunchtime or even afternoon." The physician looked over towards his ward, "The fact that he is still not moving around very much tells me that he is not yet ready."

Lancelot nodded, "In that case, I had better go to my training session," he said. "I missed it yesterday, and I do not want to do so two days in a row… unless you need me of course," he added.

"No, I should be fine," Gaius answered, "Gwen has promised to stop by right after breakfast. I had intended to leave her to watch Merlin while I go out to make my deliveries."

Gwen was sitting beside the young warlock doing some mending when Gaius returned from his rounds. "He's rolled over a few times, but has not shown any signs of waking," she said to the physician as he hung his bag on the hook by the door.

"Has he?" asked Gaius, coming over to join Gwen by the patient bed. "Well that's more than he was doing earlier. He is slowly regaining his strength."

"I'm glad for that," Gwen said with a smile. "Are you going to be here for a while, Gaius?" she asked.

"Yes, I need to prepare another batch of cough medication before I can go back out. Merlin is not the only person still suffering from this illness, I'm afraid. But you don't need to stay, Gwen. I can keep my eye on him as I work."

"If you are sure," she said as she stood and collected up her sewing. "I promised Arthur that I would sit with his father for a while this morning, so that's where I'll be if you need me."

After he had walked Gwen to the door, the physician came back to his workbench and took out the things he would need for his cough remedy. He decided to examine Merlin before he got started but just as he took the boy's wrist to check his pulse, the door burst open and Arthur, followed closely by Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Leon bustled in, fresh from the training field. The physician had banned them from the room the previous evening in order to make sure they did not wake their young friend, but now they were desperate to see the improvement that Lancelot had told them about.

Unfortunately, Merlin did not want to cooperate. Just as the group neared his bed … quietly … after having had Gaius' eyebrow pointed threateningly at them, the young servant sighed in his sleep, turned on his side so he was facing away from everyone and pulled his blanket up almost to his ears.

Gaius chuckled but suddenly snapped, "If you touch that boy, I will not allow you back in here for a week, Gwaine," when the fun-loving knight reached out as though he might try to give Merlin a shake.

Gwaine snatched his hand back with a laugh, but soon turned serious. "Really, Gaius, how is he doing? Lancelot said his fever had broken…?" he added hopefully.

Gaius smiled, and gestured that they should move a few steps away from Merlin's bedside. "Yes, he does seem to be over the worst. His fever is down, and there is no sign of lung fever, which is almost a miracle given his history," he said.

"What do you mean 'history', Gaius?" said Leon with a frown.

The physician hesitated a moment before continuing. Merlin would probably not want his friends to know about his past, but Gaius reasoned it would be better if they understood the basics. That way they could look out for the boy. After all Merlin, for all his talent, seemed almost unwilling to look out for himself and his reluctance was likely due to that very history he wanted hidden.

"He had a very deprived childhood and unfortunately that left him susceptible to illness, lung fever in particular," Gaius said finally.

Percival nodded, "I know that he does not have a father. It must have been difficult to grow up as a widow's son."

"No, not a widow," Gaius corrected. "His mother was unmarried and so Merlin grew up with all of the stigma attached to such children.

Percival's eyes widened in surprise at this news, but he kept silent, waiting for Gaius to continue his story.

"It is hard enough in Camelot for families in that situation," said the physician, "But at least Uther provides a minimum sustenance for the poor here so they don't starve and have some sort of shelter."

Gwaine narrowed his eyes, not convinced that the Camelot's King would care what happened to his poorest subjects, but he could not deny that most were better off than he'd seen in other Kingdoms.

"In Essetir, where Merlin is from, there is no such surety," Gaius continued. "Such children are rarely encouraged to live or thrive, and Merlin was no exception. He was only seen as a drain on resources and not as having any useful future."

"But that is barbaric!" spat Leon.

"It is, yes, but you must understand that they do this out of necessity," Gaius explained. "If there is not enough food to go around then a sacrifice sometimes needs to be made. Unfortunately for Merlin, when he was a child he was always at the top of that list. Of course his mother shared what she had, but both of them suffered greatly."

"They let him starve?" asked Elyan incredulously.

Gaius nodded, "And not only that," he continued, "in order to 'pay his upkeep', as it were, Merlin was expected to take on many of the dirty or dangerous tasks that the other townsfolk did not want, and from a very young age. As you may expect, it let to frequent illnesses and injuries for him; he has had lung fever more than once."

Arthur could only shake his head in anger at how unfair life had been to his servant.

It was becoming obvious to the group of knights why the young man had decided that his own health had been less important than his duties to them all. However, just as Gaius had hoped, each one of them was determined the Merlin would never put himself second like that again.

Nobody noticed Merlin's frown or the tightening of his lips. The young servant had begun to waken and had regained just enough awareness to realize that people were talking about him, and that he did not like what they were saying.

The young man struggled to open his eyes; he wanted a chance to explain things, to deny Gaius' words and tell his friends that it was all lies.

Except… except that... it wasn't. It was all true.

The realization that he couldn't fight those words hit him hard, and Merlin lost his eagerness to face his friends just then. So, with a small moan – just enough to have Gaius come hurrying over to check on him, Merlin let himself fall back into slumber.

Once Gaius had ensured that his ward was not in any danger, he straightened the boy's blanket, gave a fond rub to his shoulder and turned back to the group of worried knights.

"He is fine," said the physician. "Still fast asleep and will stay that way for some time I believe. However, I do think it will be best if you leave Merlin to his rest and come back once he has woken."

Gwaine frowned, "But Gaius, shouldn't one of us stay with him?" he asked. "Lancelot has gone to Westmoor for the rest of the day, and Gwen has gone to sit with the King. What if you get called away?"

"One of us will be with him," answered Arthur. "Since there is no official business until the day after tomorrow and since I am not visiting with my father until this afternoon, I find myself with some time on my hands. I may as well sit here as in my chambers, especially since they are now sorely in need of a cleaning with this idiot being laid up."

"That seems very… reasonable… Sire," said Leon, sharing a smile with Gwaine.

Knowing it would be pointless to suggest any alternatives, the group of knights soon left Gaius and Arthur alone with the young servant.

As soon as the room had emptied, Arthur took the chair beside Merlin's bedside. "Is there anything I should do for him?" he asked.

"No, just let him sleep and call me if he makes signs of waking, Sire," said Gaius, heading to his work table and pulling out his mortar and pestle.

It took the elderly physician about an hour to prepare and bottle his medication. "Sire, would you mind staying while I make some deliveries?" he called over to the Prince once he'd finished. "I'd like to get this distributed before lunchtime as I've found it is more effective when taken with food."

Arthur woke with a start; he had somehow dozed off as he sat by the patient bed. Giving his head a shake to clear it, he answered, "Go ahead Gaius; I'd already intended to stay until then."

"Thank you, Sire. I won't be long," the physician said as he began putting bottles carefully into his medical bag. "If Merlin wakes up, he may have a few sips of the water from that cup on that table by you. Oh, and make sure he stays in that bed!"

"I won't let him go anywhere, I promise," Arthur said with a laugh.

The bored Prince was sitting by the patient bed reading a scroll on headache cures that he'd found on Gaius worktable, when the sound he'd been waiting for two days to hear finally materialized.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?" came the weary but entirely coherent voice of his young manservant. "Don't you have a Kingdom to run?"

Chapter Text

Merlin's wakefulness was short-lived. The servant fell back to sleep even before Gaius returned from his deliveries.

That suited the Prince just fine. Arthur reasoned that Merlin had not really been aware enough to remember the hu…what had happened when he'd first woken.

Arthur told himself that he had simply been so startled at hearing his servant's voice that naturally his noble instinct of … protectiveness over his subjects... over one of his many, many subjects … resulted in him throwing his arms … protectively over that subject in case … in case… in case he should fall out of the bed… as of course any Prince would do for one of his subjects in that same situation.

It was certainly and in no way any sort of hug.

Still, Merlin was just the sort of idiot who would mistake Princely duty for some sort of fondness or something. No doubt his servant would also have mistaken Arthur's staying by his side at Gaius' request for the same sort of fondness.

Yes, it was fortunate … for Merlin … that he had fallen back to sleep so quickly, so he would not work himself up over some ridiculous notion.

Arthur nodded to himself, satisfied at his reasoning. Just then the physician arrived, and so Arthur rose from his chair by the patient bed.

"He woke up for a few minutes, Gaius, and he talked to me," the Prince said, trying but completely failing to hide the excitement in his voice. Hoping the physician had not noticed, Arthur rushed on, "He knew who I was, and where he was, and even though he fell straight back to sleep; that means he will be fine, doesn't it?"

Gaius smiled broadly, not fooled in the least by Arthur's attempts to hide his real feelings. "Yes, I'm certain he will, Sire.

"And when Merlin wakes, you may tell him that I am glad I was able to stop him from falling out of the bed," Arthur said as he headed to the door.

Suddenly he stopped and spun to face the physician again. "No on second thought, don't tell him that," the Prince said urgently, not wanting Merlin to remember the event. "I …would not want him to worry that he was almost injured, when nothing actually happened."

Gaius chuckled, "Yes Sire," he said, "I will be sure to NOT tell him anything of the sort."

Arthur nodded, "Good. That's good," he said. "You may tell him,… that I will be back later to see how he is faring. That would be fine."

Happy that his… protective instincts….would be kept secret, Arthur left the room.

Gaius could not hold back a laugh once the door closed behind the Prince. "Merlin, my boy, if you only knew," he said to his sleeping ward.

Merlin woke again just as the Steward arrived bringing in a large pot of soup along with some still-warm bread that the cook had pushed at him for 'that poor young man'.

"You'd better make sure you eat every bit of that," said the Steward. "Cook will surely be asking me about it, and I do not want to give a bad report."

Merlin smiled wearily, "I'll do my best, Sir," he said, taking the spoon after Gaius helped him to sit up and set a bowl on a tray in front of him.

"See that you do, lad," the Steward said. "Cook is… quite frightening really," he added waggling his eyebrows and causing Merlin's smile to grow . "Now I must go, but George will be here in a little while to collect the dishes."

"Thank you," said Merlin between bites.

The soup was good and the bread even better, and the young warlock had soon finished his bowl and two pieces of bread, much to Gaius' approval.

"Now, let's see if you can stay awake and sitting up for a little while," the physician said, clearing the dishes away. "If you manage it to my satisfaction, then I might let you go up to your own room for the rest of the afternoon."

"I can do it," said Merlin, his eyes glistening with hope. He hated the idea of sleeping in the patient bed now that he considered himself to be on the mend. He already felt a lot stronger just for having eaten.

Gaius stared at him for a moment, as though to make sure he would not nod off, but when Merlin looked back at him with a small smile, Gaius pulled down a book describing some rare healing plants and handed it to the boy. "This will help keep you occupied," he said.

Merlin had been awake for almost an hour when Percival came through the door bearing an armload of firewood.

"Merlin, I'm glad to see you awake," the large knight said, stopping briefly to greet his friend before going to stack the wood in its corner.

"You've come just in time to help Merlin get to his room," Gaius said. The physician was relieved the knight had arrived just then. Merlin had proven that he was ready to be transferred to his own bed, but the boy's strength was rapidly waning, and it was doubtful that he would be able to make it there unaided.

"I'd be happy to," said Percival with a smile, glad for the opportunity to do something for his friend.

Merlin gave what was very close to a pout, and said, "I can get there on my own." But when Percival and the physician helped him to stand, Merlin's wobbling told a different story, and the boy allowed himself to be supported as he made his way up the stairs. By the time he was settled into his own bed Merlin was exhausted, not that he was going to admit it to anyone.

"Gaius, I left my book downstairs," the young servant said, having found a good excuse for offering to go back to sleep without proving how weakened he felt after such a short walk. "But since it would be too much trouble for one of you to go and bring it all the way back here, I guess I might as well just rest for now. I will go down to get it later on."

"You will do no such thing, my boy," said Gaius, fixing the warlock with a stern look. "Well, yes, you will rest, but you will not be getting out of that bed again today, or even tomorrow. I forbid it!" he added.

Merlin gave only the slightest hint of a frown, but he quickly decided that he had no real desire to do otherwise, at least not yet, and so held his tongue.

"Now, I want you to take these," said Gaius, grabbing the bottles he had placed on the bedside table when they had come upstairs, and handing them to Merlin. "Finish every last drop and I don't want to hear any arguments about it."

Percival laughed when Merlin grumbled something about the vile taste, but the boy quickly did as he'd been told, and began to nod off even before he had finished the last drops.

Gaius managed to rescue the bottle before it could slip out of Merlin's now slack hand, and with a smile he gently laid his sleeping ward onto his pillow and pulled up the blankets. "

Merlin slept for most of the rest of that day and the next, but he had longer and longer periods of wakefulness during which the knights, Gwen and Arthur took turns visiting.

Gaius was careful to keep the visits short and quiet, as he did not want risk his ward relapsing. As a result of the spell that Merlin had used, the physician knew that the boy would need extra time to recover his strength fully.

Merlin hated being idle. By late afternoon of the second day, he'd had enough of being confined to his bed and was already asking for Gaius permission to go back to his duties, something that Gaius naturally refused.

"You are not strong enough yet," Gaius insisted. "You were still a touch feverish at lunchtime. You have to allow yourself to heal."

"Well, can I at least come downstairs for dinner?" Merlin asked peevishly. "It's hard to eat in bed. The tray wobbles and I can't reach my bowl very easily," he complained. "And what if I spill it? It's not like you will let me go to do the laundry."

"Merlin…," Gaius said warningly, not at all swayed by the boy's frustration. "Not tonight."

The physician relented at seeing his ward's disappointment, "But maybe, if you sleep well tonight and have no fever when I check on you in the morning, I might let you come downstairs for breakfast."

Gaius held up his hand when the young warlock broke into a smile. "But only if you promise you will go straight back to your bed afterwards. You will need a lot of sleep for at least the next week, Merlin."

"I promise," he said. "I'll be fine, you will see."

Merlin did not want to take any chance of Gaius denying him, so the next morning the warlock was up and dressed and on his way downstairs before the physician had a chance to come up and check on him.

Gaius' eyebrow rose with obvious disapproval when he saw his ward walking toward the table, a guilty smile on the boy's face.

"Good morning, Gaius," Merlin said. "I…um… felt fine, so I thought it would be better if I came straight downstairs and saved you a trip….?" he ventured. The boy slowed his pace when the physician crossed his arms and scowled at him, but Gaius did not specifically tell him to go back to his bed, so Merlin dropped his eyes and slid into a seat at the table.

The warlock hoped the physician was not too angry; in retrospect maybe it would have been better to wait upstairs in his room after all. He also hoped that Gaius could not tell how hard his heart was beating just from one trip down a few steps.

Gaius kept his glowering focused fully on Merlin for a few moments until the boy hunched his shoulders, suitably chastened. "You were fine…. well, perhaps you could let me be the judge of that," the physician finally said.

Merlin wisely kept his mouth shut as Gaius placed a palm on his forehead. "Good, no fever," the physician confirmed. The physician's lips tightened when he checked the boy's pulse though. "Fast," he said. "Though not unexpectedly."

"So, may I stay downstairs? Maybe do something for you?" Merlin asked hopefully, but based on the look Gaius was giving him, he knew he was not going to like the answer.

"You may stay and eat your breakfast, but then I want you back in your bed, just as I told you last night," the physician said.

"But, I'm feeling so much better than yesterday," Merlin insisted, "Surely I could manage washing bottles for you or something like that."

"You will feel even better tomorrow, but not unless you rest," Gaius said, "And I don't want any more arguments about it, Merlin."

Gaius was sure that Merlin had meant keep to his room, resting as he'd been ordered, but when the young warlock appeared downstairs for the fourth time, asking if he could please just stay for lunch, Gaius could only sigh. Luckily, he had been a physician for too many years not to have a few tricks up his sleeves for dealing with reluctant patients.

So, somewhat to the Merlin's surprise, without any objections, Gaius waved him over to the table and made him sit down. Soon, the physician brought over the pot of soup, and set out some bread and cheese, cutting slices of each for his ward.

"You see, Gaius?" said the young servant as the two finished the last bites of their lunch. "I'm more than ready to be up and about. I've eaten a good lunch, and I don't have any fever." He slowly put his hands under the table to hide their trembling, hoping that the physician had not noticed that bit.

Gaius said nothing, only poured the tea and put away the leftover food. "Hmmm," he said, distractedly.

Merlin drank his tea as he watched his mentor cross over to his workshop and pull out his mortar and pestle, obviously getting ready to make a batch of medication. Finally the boy could not wait any longer, "So?" he asked, "Can I stay and help you?"

"What? No, not today," the old physician said. "Oh, Merlin, I forgot to tell you, I added something to your tea for your throat."

Merlin looked at his now empty cup and jumped up with alarm. "Gaius, please tell me that it's not going to make me sleep…" he said.

"Well, I'm afraid I can't say that. No," said Gaius with an apologetic smile for his ward. "In fact, I should probably help you over to the patient bed, because I don't think you will be able to climb the stairs to your room."

"Gaius! You didn't need to do that. I would have gone to sleep on my own!" Merlin protested as Gaius wrapped the boy's arm over his shoulder and led him over to the bed. Merlin was weaving by the time he reached it, and scowled when he saw a pillow set out and the blanket already pulled down. Gaius had obviously planned for this.

Merlin mumbled some sort of objection, but didn't fight when the physician helped him remove his jacket and pushed him to lie down.

"Honestly my boy, you've given me no choice," Gaius told him, pulling up the blanket. "You may even consider yourself lucky that I did not decide to use the restraints."

Merlin made no answer, since he was already fast asleep.

Gaius watched his ward for a few moments, frowning a bit at the wheezing that had started up again since the morning, but soon headed back to his worktable, trusting that the few hours of sleep he'd just ensured would take care of the problem.

Merlin slept right through the afternoon and on into the early evening, waking well beyond what the dose of sleeping draft would normally have caused. Even the Steward arriving with a platter of ham and potatoes did not cause him to stir, much to the man's amusement; or at least to his amusement once he had been reassured that the boy was indeed on the mend.

It was only once Gaius had returned from his deliveries, thanked Gwen for watching over the slumbering warlock and sent her home that the Merlin finally opened his eyes.

"Gaius, how long have I been asleep?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and pushing himself upright.

"Past time for your dinner," the physician answered. "Let me take a look at you and then you can eat if you are hungry."

Merlin eye's widened in horror when he noticed how dark it had gotten outside the window. "Why did you have to give me something so strong?" he asked, glaring at Gaius as the physician carried out his exam. "It's made me sleep the entire day away again!"

"Look Merlin, I know you are angry at me," Gaius said apologetically as he checked the boy's pulse. He stopped talking so he could listen to Merlin's chest, and was glad to confirm that the wheezing was gone. Straightening again, Gaius reached over to take the candle. "I want to see your throat," he said, amused when his ward opened his mouth as ordered, but had difficulty trying to maintain his glare while he did so.

At last, satisfied that the long rest had done its job, Gaius put the candle back and faced Merlin, a stern expression on his face. "You were not ready to be up and about, and I did what I thought was necessary," he explained.

The warlock's lips tightened, but before he could argue the physician said, "The fact that you've only just woken proves my point, Merlin. That was only a small dose of sleeping draft I gave you."

"But I felt so much better than I did yesterday," Merlin protested. "I'm sure I could have done without it. It's not like I would have asked to do anything strenuous."

Gaius shook his head at the boy's obstinacy, "Yes, of course you are improving, but you cannot tell me that simply coming down the stairs at lunchtime did not leave you practically trembling with fatigue. Don't think I didn't see you hide your hands!"

Merlin held his glare for a few moments, but eventually he lowered his eyes in resignation and sighed. "But it's just that…" he began.

"Merlin, what's the matter?" the physician asked gently. "You will be back to your full strength soon, I promise."

"I know… that's not…" Merlin said shaking his head sadly before looking back up at Gaius accusingly. "Why did you have to tell them?" he asked. "Did you not think that maybe I didn't want them to know, and if I had I would have told them myself?"

"Ah… so you heard that?" answered Gaius, not needing to ask what Merlin meant.

"Yes, I did!" the young servant said, brows furrowing in anger. "It's not their business, and I can take care of myself. I always have before."

Gaius studied his ward for a time, finally coming over to sit beside the boy, only to have Merlin turn his head away. "I'm sorry if you think I've betrayed your trust," the physician said softly. "But I thought your friends needed to know. They need to think twice when they keep you working so hard that you feel you have to resort to spellcasting to stay on your feet."

Merlin only shook his head and dropped his eyes again. "Well, they didn't need to know about that," he said. "Now they'll think…." Merlin trailed off not wanting to admit what he was worried about

Gaius could easily guess though, "You're not… ashamed … of your past, are you?" he asked, "or of your mother? Because you must know that none of it was your fault."

Merlin looked up sharply, "No, of course I'm not!" he snapped back angrily, although the flush beginning to rise in his cheeks belied his words. "It's just that …" he began, only to pause and start fiddling with the blanket.

"Just what?" Gaius prompted when it seemed for a moment like Merlin would not continue.

The young servant signed, "Well, yes. Maybe I am, but is that so surprising?" he asked, letting go of the blanket and looking back up at Gaius. "Growing up, I was told every single day of my life how worthless I was, that I was not as good as other people's children, that I was not even worth feeding! 'Let's get Merlin to do that, it doesn't really matter if he gets hurt after all,'" Merlin imitated. "And it's bad enough here already without everybody knowing about that too."

"I can only imagine how terrible it was," Gaius said, trying to calm his ward.

"No you can't imagine, Gaius," Merlin countered. "They already just think of me as a clumsy idiot. Now they'll add 'invalid' and… and… 'bastard' to the list."

"Oh, Merlin, I don't think they will think any less of you for taking ill," Gaius tried again.

Merlin did not even seem to have heard though. "They're probably having a good laugh at my expense," he continued, getting carried away in his imaginings. "'Poor Arthur, better go and tuck your servant in because the boy is probably too weak to pull up his own blankets' or 'Merlin do you need help carrying the Prince's lunch? Those sausages are awfully heavy.'"

Gaius tutted, and patted the boy's knee in sympathy, but couldn't help a small chuckle from escaping at hearing Merlin's musings.

Even Merlin realized that his imagination had conjured up an unlikely scenario. "I'm sorry, Gaius," he said coming out of his rant with a slight smile, "I'm just feeling sorry for myself, but I just wish… that even once, I'd be the one that mattered. You know?"

Gaius stood and smiled down at his ward. "Merlin, you did not see the state your friends were in when you were lying here delirious with fever," he said, "You do matter, very much if I'm any judge."

The servant looked up, not quite believing it.

"And you matter very much to me too," Gaius said. "I don't care how busy I am, or you are, for that matter. If you are ill, you must tell me and I will make the time to help you. Is that understood?"

Merlin nodded, "Yes, Gaius," he answered meekly, his heart warmed by the caring in his mentor's words.

"Good. I'm glad that is settled. And I also want you to promise that you will never use that spell on yourself again, Merlin." the physician added, holding his ward's eyes.

"I…" Merlin said, and hesitated, uncertain of whether he would be able to honour it.

"Merlin… Promise me." Gaius insisted.

The young warlock saw the worry in his mentor's eyes, and thought back to how he had felt when he had cast the masking spell, remembering also how he horrible had felt when it had worn off. "Yes, I promise, Gaius," he said with a shudder, deciding that he never wanted to feel that way again.

The physician smiled with relief and motioned that the boy should head over to the table for some dinner. "Arthur was the worst of them all," Gaius said softly as Merlin took a seat, "And if I'm not mistaken he is about to let you know about it," he added, cocking his head towards the door so Merlin would notice that the Prince was now striding towards them."

"Sire, I did not expect to see you back from Westmoor already," the physician said as Arthur joined them. "Have you come to see me or Merlin?"

"Oh I have definitely come to see you, Gaius," the Prince answered. "Although now that I am here, I might as well check on my servant at the same time," he added, as if in afterthought.

Gaius smiled, "Just give me a moment to serve him some supper then, and I'll be right with you," he said, ladling out some stew onto the warlock's plate and pushing it toward him.

"Merlin, I'm glad to see you awake," Arthur said, watching his servant eat. "You are certainly looking better than you did yesterday."

"Yes, I'm getting there," Merlin answered. "I'm sure Gaius will be letting me back to work soon, won't you Gaius?" he asked pointedly, looking up at the physician.

Gaius ignored Merlin's question, instead turning to face the Prince. "Sire, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"For me?" Arthur asked, furrowing his brows slightly in confusion. "Oh, right, for me," he continued, remembering his excuse for being in the chambers. "Gaius, I find myself in need of some liniment. I seem to have hurt my wrist somehow during our journey today."

Gaius rummaged in a drawer for a jar of ointment, and brought it over to where the Prince was standing. He waited for Arthur to remove a glove, or raise the sleeve of his arm in order to expose the injury, but when the Prince did neither the physician asked, "May I take a look, Sire?"

The Prince looked startled at the question, but finally rolled up the sleeve of his right hand. "It doesn't look much, I know," he admitted, "but it hurts quite a bit, and since it is my sword hand, I thought it would be best to get something for it…"

"Very wise indeed," Sire, said Gaius with a nod. As expected, he found no sign of injury, but went ahead and spread the pungent smelling mixture on Arthur's wrist without admitting it. "There you are, Sire. It should be fine in the morning as long as you are careful with it."

Arthur flexed his hand a few times, "Yes, that already feels much better, Gaius."

The physician simply nodded, and said "I have no doubt, Sire," trying not give in to laughter, before picking up a cloth and wiping off his hands. Laying the cloth back on the table, he asked, "Sire, if I might ask a favour?"

"Certainly, Gaius," answered the Prince, "Whatever I can do to help."

"Well could you stay with Merlin for a short time? I would like to take a last look at Lord Owen's baby, since they are due to leave tomorrow morning."

Merlin looked up sharply from where he had been eating his stew and trying to ignore Arthur. "Gaius, he does not need to stay. I'm just going to sit and eat, and I don't need a minder," he protested.

"No, it's fine, Merlin," Arthur said, "It would be better if I stayed for a little while until this liniment takes hold, anyway, wouldn't it Gaius?"

"Oh, certainly, Sire," answered the physician, trying hard to keep his professional mask in place. "I was just about to say that it would give me a chance to check your wrist again once I returned."

"There, you see, Merlin?" asked the Prince. "I need to stay anyway."

"Fine, stay then," grumbled the young servant, "But I'm fine."

Neither young man saw Gaius' smile as his picked up his medical bag and got ready to leave the chambers. The physician knew Merlin's reluctance to be left alone with the Prince was due to his embarrassment that the Prince knew about his childhood. But he also knew that Arthur was feeling guilty over having missed the signs of his servant's worsening illness. As Gaius closed the door behind him, he trusted that the young men would soon work things out.

Arthur stood watching Merlin eat for a time, looking at him with a sad sort of frown on his face. The Prince searched for the right words to say to his servant, but all that came out was "Well then, how is the stew?"

Merlin, who had been avoiding looking at the Prince, looked up with surprise, "It's …um… good. Steward keeps bringing meals by, but I'm not sure why. Gaius usually cooks for us and I don't think we are short on food."

"I'm sure he is feeling guilty that he kept you working at preparing for the feasts even though you were ill," Arthur said, stepping closer to the table and taking the seat across from his servant.

Merlin frowned, "Why would he feel that way?" he asked, perplexed. "After all, it is my job, and I told him I was okay to stay and do it."

"But you weren't, were you Merlin?" Arthur said, "Okay, I mean. And, I did not realize it either…" The Prince pursed his lips and sighed, not quite knowing how to continue.

Merlin looked back at Arthur, unsure if he was supposed to answer the question or not.

Arthur looked down at the table, his guilt not letting him look Merlin in the eyes, "Gaius said you had been ill for a few days before we found you on the way to Milton,…and so I … also wanted to apologize," he finally managed to get out. "For not noticing…sooner."

"Oh, um… apology accepted," answered Merlin, though he was still confused over why anyone would feel guilty over his illness. After all, the young warlock considered that he shouldered most of the blame all by himself.

"But Merlin…. why didn't you just tell me you were not feeling well?" Arthur asked, and much to the servant's surprise, the Prince looked hurt. "Did you think I would force you to work anyway?"

"No, not really," Merlin answered with a shake of his head once he'd thought it over for a moment. "And, well, I wanted to tell you, but there were so many other servants already away, and then… the refugees…. and the knight's dinner and the feast and then I botched up getting the cloaks you were counting on….and…" Merlin stammered.

Arthur's frown had deepened at every new item Merlin added to the list and finally the Prince had heard enough. "Merlin, stop!" he cut in sharply, holding up a hand. Shaking his head he added more gently, "The work would have been done. We would have found a way that didn't involve you half-killing yourself."

"But Arthur, there just wasn't anyone else, and I and didn't want to bother you over my problems. You have plenty of bigger things to worry about and, I mean, I'm just…" Merlin tried to explain.

Arthur held up his hands again, "Don't say it, Merlin. Just stop alright?" he said, cutting his servant off again.

"But...," Merlin tried to explain, snapping his mouth shut when Arthur glared at him and waved him to silence.

The Prince heaved a sigh as Merlin dropped his gaze again. "Merlin, I need you to listen to me," he said carefully, waiting for his servant to look up before continuing. "I am a Prince, and now Regent for a King. That means I often need to make decisions for the good of a whole village or town or even for the whole kingdom. It's… difficult … since sometimes that means that some people will suffer for the good of the rest. It's inevitable and I hate that, but it is my job."

Merlin nodded, uncertain about what this had to do with him taking ill.

Arthur sat back in his chair, but his eyes never left Merlin's. "I've come to count on you to tell me when I've crossed a line," the Prince said gesturing towards his servant. "When I fall back into old habits and don't consider everyone's concerns."

"When you are being a prat, you mean?" answered Merlin with a twitch of his lips.

Arthur smiled too, appreciating his servant's attempt to lighten the mood. "Exactly," he said with a nod. "But the thing is, when we first met, I was a prat intentionally. I admit it freely! Now I try not to be. Do you understand?"

Merlin looked at him for a moment and then shook his head, "Um, no, not really…" he admitted.

"What I mean is that I need you to tell me even when it's your concerns I'm not considering," Arthur said.

When Merlin looked at him doubtfully, Arthur sighed. "Look, I know I may not be very observant when it comes to you. But I don't ever want you to feel that your own needs are less important than mine… than anyone else's. So, you might have to tell me you are not well, but I would never expect or even want you to put something as trivial as a dinner or … or some gifts, ahead of your own health. Those other things are not as important to me as you are, can you understand that?"

Merlin's eyes had misted at Arthur's unexpected admission. "Yes, Sire," he whispered.

"Good, so then do you promise you will tell me the next time you are ill, or hurt, or … in any way not up to carrying out your duties?" Arthur asked.

Smiling at the fact that he'd be made to give a very similar promise to Gaius less than an hour earlier, Merlin said, "Yes, I'll tell you, I promise."

"Well, now that's settled, you'd better finish your stew," Arthur said, changing the subject back to more mundane matters, "I would not want you to eat it cold."

It was a full week before Gaius pronounced Merlin fit enough to leave the physician's chambers and resume light duties.

During his recovery, the young servant continued to sleep for much of the time, although Gaius did permit him to spend his time downstairs when he was not resting. He spent his time awake in helping Gaius prepare medications, receiving visits from the Arthur, Gwen and the knights, and happily reading his book on magic.

George came by most days, usually bringing some armour which they polished together. Merlin came to enjoy those visits, finding it reassuring to carry out the familiar task, and loving George's funny stories about what it was like to grow up as a castle servant.

And, although his forced confinement had been less boring than he had expected, Merlin was looking forward to his first day back at work.

Merlin was just finishing up his breakfast on that first day, when Arthur arrived at the door.

"Sire, what are you doing here?" Merlin asked, surprised. "I know I've been away for a week, but I swear did not forget where your rooms are," he said. "And I'm not even late."

Arthur ignored the question and strode over to the table. "Hello Gaius," he said acknowledging the physician with a grin, before turning to his servant. "Come on, Merlin. We've got to get going."

"Going? Where?" Merlin asked worriedly. "Nobody told me to get ready for a patrol, and even if they had, you know I've not been allowed out of these chambers before today, so how would I have been supposed to arrange for it?" he said, getting up from the table with a frown.

"That's okay, Merlin. It's not a patrol. It's … a visit," Arthur said, trying to be reassuring.

Unfortunately, his attempt didn't work and Merlin became even more agitated. "A visit?" asked the servant, "Who are we visiting?" Merlin glared at the Prince and groaned, "Don't tell me I have to pack up all of your royal wardrobe-y type things. That will take ages…. You should have told me bef….."

Arthur cut him off before he could get any more wound up. Grinning he said, "No, it's not a royal visit. It's just a few days at a nearby village."

"What? Where?" Merlin was starting to feel that he was missing something. The feeling only increased when he heard the door to the infirmary open behind him, and he turned to see Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine and Elyan enter the room wearing their new cloaks.

"Merlin, are you not ready yet?" Lancelot asked with a smile.

"Ready for what?" the young servant asked in exasperation. His confusion heightened when the knights and Arthur all began to chuckle. Merlin looked over at Gaius who was still seated at the table, but his mentor was no help, only sporting a broad grin of his own.

Merlin was just about to push someone, anyone to explain, when Gwen and Percival rushed in also wearing their new cloaks. The young servant could only shake his head in confusion.

"Sorry, Arthur," said Percival, breathlessly. "It took me a while to find your Uncle, but he should be just behind us."

A few moments later, a scowling Lord Agravaine entered the room, carrying several large parcels.

"Ahh, Uncle, At last!" Arthur said, "Did you get everything?"

"Yes, I had to go back twice," he said with a scowl. "And I really don't think this is appropriate…." he began, only to be cut off when Arthur waved him to silence.

"Uncle, this is my will," Arthur said firmly, his eyes narrowing to show that he would not tolerate any type of argument on whatever this wish was.

By this time Merlin was so confused, he could only look from person to person to person, mouth hanging open and unable to even formulate a question. Finally he sputtered out, "Arthur, what's going on….?"

Arthur came back to join his servant who was still standing by the table. "Well, Merlin, it has come to my attention that your outerwear is not suitable for the type of visit that we are making," the Prince said loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. Then, dropping his voice he teased, "it's actually not suited for any type of winter errand, is it?" and returning to his previous tone he added, "And so I wish to remedy that situation."

Arthur gestured to Agravaine that his Uncle should come into the room and set the parcels down on the table. Once the Lord had reluctantly done so, Arthur said to his servant softly, "I wish you to have this as a gift, Merlin."

The young warlock looked at the Prince, who nodded that he should go ahead and unwrap the largest bundle. Merlin untied the strings and unfolded the wrapping, only to gasp in surprise at the beautiful blue cloth that appeared, soft under his fingertips. Pulling the garment out further, the boy could see that it was a finely woven wool cloak, dyed blue and lined with sheepskin.

"There, that should keep you warm the next time I send you out on an errand in the winter," Arthur said with a smile. "But you'll need these too," he added, pushing the other two packages to his servant.

One of these held a pair of fur-lined leather gloves and the other, a pair of new boots, which Merlin kept picking up and putting down as though he could not believe they were his.

"Now, put them on because we need to get going," Arthur said with a laugh, pulling Merlin out of his admiration of his new clothes.

"You haven't said where, yet," said Merlin suspiciously, but he started to pull on the boots, giving a sigh of contentment on finding how warm and comfortable they were.

"Well, we have a delivery to make," Arthur said, and all of the knights began to smile. "The collection for Westmoor was so successful that we have enough left to provide a donation to a small village just near the border," he explained. He led Merlin over to the window where eight pack horses laden with food could be seen waiting.

"It is a welcome gift for a town which has recently been annexed to Camelot; a town called Ealdor," the Prince said, watching for his servant's reaction. "I believe you know the place?"

Merlin's mouth had dropped open, "Really?" he cried out in surprise. "You would do that?" he said, looking out the window at the waiting horses again. "That's enough food to last the whole winter!" he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

Arthur laughed, "Yes, that's the general idea," he said, "Starting with a Yule feast which we will hold for the town tonight," he added. "That is, if we ever get underway!"

Merlin had to wipe the tears from his eyes, "Thank you, Sire. This means more to me than you can ever know," he said.

The Prince turned serious once more. "This is the very least I can do to reward the loyalty you have always shown me, Merlin. I should have done it long before now, and I can only apologize that I have not."

After allowing his servant a few moments to regain his composure, Arthur said. "Now get your new cloak on, and let's go and wish your mother a Happy Yule."