Chapter Text
Arthur followed the trail of blood along the castle corridors, right to the physician's door. The late evening winter sun cast a low light, making everything seem cold and grey. Snow was piling up against the glass in the windows. Arthur shivered, steeled himself, and then he knocked on the thick wooden door.
“Gaius, it’s me,” Arthur called. Then he stepped back to wait. What could Merlin have gotten himself into this time? All he’d heard from Gwaine was that it was bad. Bad enough that it had the townspeople talking. On his way over, they had stared at him. Whispered behind their hands. A few looked grim. Arthur pretended not to notice. He’d even seen Gwen clinging to Morgana’s arm. Both of them were teary-eyed, rushing back down the corridor away from the physician’s chambers.
Gaius opened the door and ushered Arthur inside.
Inside the room, the fire was burning low. The windows were cracked open, letting in the cold wind and the smell of outside. Arthur breathed it deeply because inside the room the only smell came from blood. Blood that covered the walls. The floor. The bed. Merlin's clothes. All of his body. Arthur forced his breath out in an even sigh.
“What happened?” He asked.
Merlin had been laid out on Gaius’ bed with a sheet covering him, sparing his dignity and protecting him from the winter chill.
Gaius looked severe, with his crinkled hands working quickly.
“I’m not sure, sire. It appears as though he’d been attacked”
He lifted the sheet from Merlin to reveal a series of slashes down his ribcage, deep and angry open wounds. It looked like he’d been mauled by a bear.
Arthur’s stomach turned over. This wasn’t some wild animal on the loose. He knew Merlin hadn’t left the castle. He and Merlin had been together all day, and had barley been a part for an hour before Gwaine had found him with the news. What could have happened in such a short time?
“Who did this?”
“Not who,” Gaius said, then looked up to meet Arthur’s eyes. “But what.”
Arthur frowned. “What?”
“That’s right.” rasped a voice and both Arthur and Gaius gave a start.
On the table, bleary-eyed and sweating, Merlin looked up at them.
“Merlin!” Gaius cried, “Stay down, boy.” He said firmly as Merlin struggled to sit up.
Arthur planted a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.
“What happened to you?” he asked, without removing his hand.
Merlin looked delirious, confused. His eyes were glassy, his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. He was pale, his lips were an off-blue and he started to shiver. Absently, Arthur pulled the sheet up over him again and touched a hand to Merlin’s forehead. It was burning hot.
“Merlin, what happened?” He asked again, softly this time. Gently.
“You know me, sire.” Merlin coughed, “I’m just clumsy.”
“Clumsy?” Arthur frowned.
There was a silence. Merlin looked away.
“He’s delirious, sire,” Gaius said uneasily.
“Right.” Said Arthur. He didn’t know what else to say or do.“We’ll talk when you’re feeling better.”
Arthur squeezed Merlin’s shoulder one last time, then looked to Gaius. He saw his worry reflected in the physician’s eyes.
“I’ll leave him with you. Inform me if anything changes.”
“Yes, Sire.”
Arthur left for his chambers, still weighed down with concern.
Clumsy, Merlin had said. What did that mean? What had he done to get this hurt? How did being clumsy leave a man bleeding and sick?
He didn’t want to think that Merlin was lying, but he didn’t understand at all. And if Merlin was lying, why would he lie? What was there to hide?
Arthur stayed up long into the night, listening to the wind whistle through gaps in the window, asking himself those questions over and over.
*
*
A dark dawn drizzled over Camelot, with a strong wind dragging grey clouds over the sun long before it had the chance to rise. Arthur watched from the castle battlements as the trees swayed against the grizzly sky and the grass rippled and the farmhands ran to safety. In the castle village, all was chaos. The wind had struck at once, without warning leaving market vendors scrambling to protect their wares. The wind turned to rain and the rain mixed with sleet. The snow on the ground turned to slush and ice. The courtyard emptied and Camelot was left like a ghost town. The rain was in Arthur’s eyes, in his hair, running in icy rivers down his back. His clothes stuck to his skin as he walked back along the wall, head bowed against the weather.
Inside the castle, the rain still poured. It thundered against the window glass and dripped through cracks in the ceiling. It pooled across the corridors. And where the rain couldn’t reach, the icy wind howled.
Everywhere, servants swarmed, trying to contain it. Arthur’s eyes still searched for Merlin among them, though he knew he’d still be down there, in the physician's chambers, having worsened overnight. The fever had nearly taken him, and Arthur had been summoned in the night's deepest hour. He’d prayed. Prayed for his friend to see one more morning, though Arthur had hoped it would be a better morning than this.
Arthur made his way back to his chambers slowly, shivering in his wet clothes, delaying every moment until he’d have to be back there, watching his friend degrade before his eyes. But it was all too soon he stood in his room, reminded constantly of the absence. He stripped, towelled off and redressed himself. Gaius would have a fit if he saw him in such a state.
Arthur arrived back at the physician's door and held his fist to knock, but hesitated. From the other side of the door, he heard voices. Low and incomprehensible, but undeniably… He threw the door wide open.
“Merlin!” He yelled.
Merlin looked like he’d taken a dive off the castle towers and the jury was out on if he’d lived. But he blinked up at Arthur from his seat at the table all the same.
“Couldn’t stand one day without me?” Merlin jested and gave a weak smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Gaius sat opposite of him, mixing a salve, and didn’t look up when Merlin spoke, nor, Arthur realised, had he looked up when Arthur had entered. The brief relief he’d felt upon seeing Merlin up was rapidly fading.
“Gaius?” Arthur prompted, hoping for an explanation.
Gaius just raised a critical brow, “It is as he said.” The physician sighed, “The boy is a fool.”
Merlin nodded, weak and slow, his eyes falling to the salve in Gaius’ hands. Arthur scowled at them both, feeling some secret lingering in the room. It made him, sick, and uneasy.
“Right.” He said at last, almost just to break the silence that had begun to stretch. “Well, then I’ll expect you back by this afternoon. My chambers won't clean themselves."