This Must Be Something

Dying

Merlin was feeling as if someone had ripped him apart and was stabbing him with millions of daggers. Sleep left him as soon as the knights started dismantling the camp. He could hear Gwaine and Lancelot talking concerned about him but he couldn't bring himself to try to understand them when he was wrapped up in a nice warm body.

Merlin realized that Arthur, even when it was clear they had to start going back to Camelot, was still with him under the blankets. And he could tell, by the way Arthur's arms were pulling him impossibly close to him, that he was pretty awake. The warlock wondered why on earth weren't they getting up, and then a wave of pain went through his body and he shuddered violently.

That gave him away and Arthur moved, lifting up on his elbow to look down at him with concern written all over his face.

"I knew you were lazy, /Mer/lin, but that isn't an excuse to stay there for the rest of the day," Arthur teased, and even though it was half-hearted and Merlin knew he was trying to ease the tension, he felt immensely grateful.

"Why, I'm touched, really," he grinned slightly. "Never imagined you would be so keen to let me sleep tho," now he was teasing Arthur and he knew it. Arthur tilted his head back and barked out a sharp laugh.

"Well, I can't have my manservant falling asleep on the way home, now can I ?" His eyes were a bit brighter and it made Merlin's heart twist.

"Aw, didn't know you cared," with that, Arthur reached out with his free arm and runned his hand through Merlin's hair fondly.

"I care more than I should, you know," he murmured, and then he seemed to remember what was going on and disentangled himself from the mess of bedrolls and blankets. After standing up he helped Merlin up too, and gave him a look.

"Don't make any kind of effort, do you hear me?" He commanded, resting his hands on his hips. "You're too ill and we have a long way ahead us until we get to Camelot." With that, he turned around and went to help his knights to gather up everything.

Merlin was left there, gaping at the sudden kindness that Arthur had just showed him. He had been behaving oddly since they left the castle. Sure, Merlin was dying and he knew it, but he wasn't expecting that amount of affection in public.

He remembered how he had stepped in front of Arthur to intercept a spell that was meant to kill him. As he had magic it didn't kill him on the spot, but he could feel his body falling apart, and the deep pain was always there. Obviously Merlin had tried to heal himself with his magic, but he was drained and the spell needed to counter the curse was beyond his knowledge.

After being hit by it, he remembered falling to the ground. With his last drop of strength his eyes glowed gold and the remaining monsters suddenly burned out. Then, Merlin started to drift away as Arthur leaned over him, grabbing him by his shoulders and whispering his name.

That's the last thing he remembered, and then he found himself in a bedroll, cuddled up there with Arthur. Arthur, who seemed worn out by his concern. Merlin thought about him. How much he had wanted last night to just lift his head a bit and kiss him. But that kind of desire was dangerous and he shouldn't want that. Arthur would marry Gwen and they would be happy because they were in love. And yeah, Arthur was fond of him, he knew that, but he also knew that Arthur didn't love him.

Sighing, he prepared himself for the long hours he would have to spend walking (there was just two horses, the others had run away in the battle). He was about to go when Lancelot stopped him.

"Arthur told me you were to ride with him," he told him with a smile.

"M-me? With Arthur? In the... same... horse?" Merlin managed, because he wasn't sure he had understood that correctly.

"No, Gwaine. What do you think, huh?" Lancelot patted him fondly on the face and added more seriously "How are you feeling? You're still too hot. We tried to broke down your fever but it was impossible. And it's something magical, so I guess we can hardly help, but..."

"Don't worry about me, Lancelot," Merlin cut him. "I'm better now, really, I'm sure it isn't anything dangerous," he knew that was a blatant lie and that the two of them knew it, but luckily Lancelot let it go.

"Just... Take care of yourself, my friend. And let Arthur take care of you." With that, he gave him a hug and left again.

Merlin searched Arthur with his eyes and spotted him already on his horse, watching him with an inscrutable expression. Holding his breath, he made his way, slowly, to the horse. Once there, he gulped and took the hand Arthur offered him.