The mandrake root drips onto the floor of Camelot's corridors, the inky substance leaving a trail of darkness in its wake as Agravaine strides purposefully down the hall. The man holds it closer to his chest, concealing it behind his cloak when the servants pass and if they can hear the dripping of the soaked root they keep it to themselves. He can feel the tendrils of his lady's magic swirling around his fingertips as his grip tightens on the plant, the wisps of power emanating strongly from the mandrake as he heads down the halls, twisting and turning as he makes his way towards his destination. He holds another root in his hand, except this one is bare. No hints of magic swirling about its body. No blackness tainting its usual light brown colour.

Agravaine stops before turning the last corner. He peers around the wall, smirking to himself when he sees the king and his servant disappearing down the hall with the sounds of laughter in their wake.

-----

Merlin sneaks into the king's chambers the next morning, tiptoeing around the room quietly as he lays out the royal's breakfast on the table. He can hear Arthur snoring loudly. The man's arm is draped over the side of the bed while he lies on his stomach, looking rather un-kingly as he drools in his sleep.

Merlin chuckles at the sight, ready to tease him on the matter later. He heads towards the curtains when he's finished setting up the table. He grabs the drapes, tearing them open roughly and allowing the morning sun to stream in through the windows.

"Rise and shine!" he calls happily, spinning on his heel to face the groaning Arthur.

The king turns in his bed, his hair messy and eyes half lidded with sleep. He grumbles in Merlin's general direction, something about obnoxious servants before he shuts his eyes again.

Merlin sighs, grabbing the duvet and yanking it harshly. Arthur keeps his grip firm, clutching at it tightly as his servant attempts to pull the covers away.

"You..." Merlin grunts, trying to wrench the blanket free, "have a busy day... filled with... council meetings and training." On the last word he manages to pull the covers off.

He gives a triumphant grin as Arthur groans, mumbling once again to himself as he glares at the servant in exasperation. Arthur crawls from the bed a moment later, eyes squinting at the sun as he faces the window.

"Is it possible to..." He sighs, rubbing at his eyes with a hand as he sits on the edge of the bed, "cancel the meetings?"

Merlin raises an eyebrow at him. "I may be able to arrange it," Merlin says, regarding the king skeptically, "Is something the matter?"

Arthur shakes his head, feeling himself get dizzy from the movement. "Just..." he waves a hand in the air, "not feeling very well. Could you fetch a remedy from Gaius for headaches?"

Merlin nods, looking at the king worriedly before leaving the room.

-----

Gaius' remedy seems to have done little good as the throb continues to persist throughout the day. Arthur rests his head in his hands as he slouches in his chair, trying to at least finish some of the work beginning to pile on his desk only to no avail. He can't concentrate with the constant pounding in his skull. 

Food nor more sleep seemed to be able to dull the pain in his head. As a matter of fact, sleeping seemed to only make it worse. When he awoke from his nap earlier in the day he felt even more ill than he had when he first awoke. 

He glances up and around the empty chamber, heaving a sigh at the stillness in the air.

He had chosen to send Merlin away, telling him he had the day off in fear of spreading his illness to the boy as well. Merlin had refused rather adamantly at first, as he does to every order Arthur gives, insisting he stay and treat the king until he's well. Though Arthur was rather touched at the gesture he continued to press the boy until he finally gave in. Merlin left with a frown on his face, informing him that he would be in his own chambers next door in case he was needed.

Once the door had shut, Arthur was immediately hit with the silence in the room. He was almost tempted to call Merlin back, wanting to hear the boy's silly stories about his life in Ealdor or just to hear him stumbling about. Anything to bring some life back into the room.  

Arthur groans, rubbing at his forehead as another wave of nausea hits him. He looks back down at the parchments on his desk, having no desire to sift through all that paperwork. He gets to his feet, managing to stumble over to his bed before collapsing down onto it. He shuts his eyes, hoping that maybe some more rest would do him some good. 

He lies there for a moment, about to drift off into sleep when the sound of voices cheering wake him. He furrows his brows, wondering what all the commotion is about. He clambers out of bed, movements still sluggish as he makes his way to the window that faces the courtyard below. He grips the edge of the wall for leverage as he peers out of the stained glass. 

His breath catches in his throat when he sees the pyre built up high in the centre of the courtyard. He can see the crowd outside, cheering and shouting taunts at the small figure that is pulled up towards the stake. The knights pull the boy roughly by the arms, his hands are bound behind his back as he's dragged towards the pyre still kicking and shouting. 

Arthur tries to focus on the boy's face, wondering who the council had decided to sentence without at least notifying him. He freezes when he recognizes the familiar mop of black hair, the pale skin, and large ears. Arthur staggers backwards, almost tripping on the curtain in his rush away from the window. He scrambles out of the room, dashing through the halls and out into the courtyard. 

He stands on the steps, frozen in horror at the sight before him. He takes a few slow steps down, hardly able to believe this is true. The boy is pinned to the stake, his eyes seem red from crying and his wrists are bleeding from the rope. Agravaine stands by the pyre, torch in hand, ready to set the stake alight.

Arthur reaches a hand out, his whole body trembling with fear as he moves closer towards the centre of the courtyard. "Merlin..." he breathes out, "Merlin!" he's shouting now, voice desperate. His heart hammers in his chest, pounding at a frightening pace.

No one hears him. His uncle directs the torch towards the bundles of branches leaning against the platform without a single shred of guilt for what he's doing. The flames leap onto the wood, catching it alight quickly. It spreads through the pile in a blink of an eye, soon starting to jump up the sides of the wooden post in the centre. 

Merlin thrashes in the middle of it all. His voice is drowned out by the cheering crowd who continue to jeer at the servant. He can see Merlin turn his head and look straight at him, the first person to acknowledge his presence in the courtyard. He can see tears tracks running down the sides of his face. 

"A-Arthur..." he hears him say, voice hoarse, "Arthur... please. I'm sorry. Please, I-I wouldn't-"

His words are cut off as a scream tears through his throat. The flames lick higher up his body, engulfing him completely till all Arthur can see is red. 

Arthur's chest constricts painfully. He continues staggering forward, not caring that he was about to delve into the inferno. The only thought in his mind is to save Merlin, to pull him from the fire and wrap his arms around him, to keep him safe. The very thought of losing his smile, his laugh, and his ridiculous jokes make him want to join the boy. Anything would be better than losing him. 

Arthur stretches a hand out, reaching for his servant, his friend, the person he loved more than anything. 

Suddenly, he feels his arm being wrenched back. He struggles forward, shouting curses and kicking with all his might despite his throbbing head. He tries to shake loose, to reach towards Merlin again.

"Arthur! Stop it! Calm down..." Merlin's voice.

He blinks, and immediately the flames are gone. The pyre, the cheering crowd, Agravaine, everything. 

The courtyard is quiet. The only sounds are the whispers from the few townspeople and servants milling about as well as the laboured breaths of his knights and servant around him. Arthur gazes at his friends. Percival is the one behind him, keeping the king's arms pinned as gently as he can. Leon stands beside him, eyebrows creased in worry with Lancelot, Elyan, and Gwaine all doing the same. 

The last person he sees is Merlin, standing right in front of him with his hands cupping the sides of his face. He can feel the boy's breath brush past as his manservant heaves a sigh, a smile forming on his lips.

"Arthur?" he says again, voice quiet, "What happened?"

The king can only stare at his friend standing in front of him, paying no attention to his words. The minute Percival lets his arms drop they're latched onto Merlin's thin frame. His arms wrap around the boy's neck, pulling him closer as he burrows his head into his shoulder. He can feel Merlin tense under him before his body relaxes. Merlin's arm reaches up, gently patting the king's back as Arthur clutches the boy desperately, afraid he'd disappear if he let go.

-----

Merlin leans against the headboard of his bed, reading one of the books he borrowed from Gaius' chambers about special herbs. He had wanted to study from his spell book, but unfortunately, the old man had forbidden him from reading any and all magical texts outside the physician's quarters, leaving him with nothing left to read but Gaius' medicine books. 

He sighs, tossing the book onto the desk where a pile has already begun to form. He leans back against the bed, planning to get some rest when he hears loud stamping coming from Arthur's chambers. 

"Arthur?" he calls out, sitting up.

No response.

Merlin frowns, worried now that Arthur may have collapsed or worse. He springs out from the bed, heading into the king's chambers in time to see the man dash out of the room.

"Arthur!" Merlin calls, quickly following after him down the hall.

He's left breathless as he twists and turns through the corridors, surprised at Arthur's agility despite his ill state. Merlin only stops when he loses the king, leaning a hand against the wall to catch his breath as he spins about, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man's blond hair. 

He sighs when he sees nobody around, cursing at his own incompetence. 

"Merlin!" Gwaine calls cheerfully, strolling towards the man before throwing an arm around his shoulder. "We're heading to the tavern tonight," he grins, gesturing to the other knights behind him who gives the servant a bright smile, "are you coming?"

Merlin shakes his head, peeling the knight's arm off his body. "I can't. Not today. Have any of you seen Arthur?"

Leon frowns, expression turning serious in an instant. "No, why? What's happened?"

Merlin looks away, continuing to scan through the many corridors in the citadel for the king. "I suddenly heard Arthur running out of his chambers. I don't know where he's gone."

"Um... Merlin," Elyan says, pointing out the window towards a figure outside. 

Merlin peers out, eyes widening when he spots the king outside. The man remains still in the courtyard, gaze trained on what seems to be nothing but the castle wall. 

Merlin frowns, turning before dashing down the hall, the knights following after him as they rush down the steps and into the courtyard. 

His breath catches in his throat when he finds Arthur with an arm outstretched and tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Percival is the first to reach the king. The large knight wrenches Arthur's arm back, trying to keep him still as he struggles against his grip. Arthur kicks out at Percival, yelling a stream of curses as he tries to reach forward again. 

Merlin stops in front of Arthur, standing face to face with the king. The blond doesn't register him in his sights, he seems to stare through him, eyes focused on something else. 

"Arthur!" Merlin screams, hoping to snap the man back into his senses, but the king continues to struggle. 

"Arthur! Stop it!" He brings his hands up to cup the man's cheeks. The struggling starts to lessen, his body going slack. "Calm down..." Merlin breathes out, voice barely above a whisper.

Arthur blinks, the haze disappearing from his eyes. Merlin gives a sigh of relief, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Arthur?" Merlin says, praying to every being out there that his king had returned to his senses, "What happened?" 

The man doesn't respond, only proceeds to wrap his arms around Merlin's neck the moment he's free from Percival's grasp. 

Merlin stiffens, feeling a light fluttering in his chest at the sudden embrace. He quickly pushes it aside, letting his body relax before reaching a hand up to gently pat the king's back. He feels Arthur's grip tighten around him, clinging onto him almost desperately now. 

Merlin turns towards Leon, who's glancing around uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gazes of the public. "We need to get him inside. Rumours will spread if anymore people see him in such a state," Leon says, trying to usher the two of them into the citadel.

Merlin nods in agreement, pulling Arthur off of him reluctantly. The king seems to disagree with the action. The moment his arms are off they attach themselves back on, pulling Merlin even closer to the king's body. 

"Arthur," Merlin says, making sure to keep his voice gentle, "we need to get you inside."

Arthur stays silent for a moment. "You won't leave?" he mutters, voice mostly muffled by Merlin's coat.

Merlin gives a soft smile, moving a hand up to stroke at Arthur's hair. "I won't leave. Not now, not ever."

The king loosens his grip, taking a step back. Merlin can see him trying to recompose himself, to force the regal expression back on his face only to fail miserably. His shoulders slump back down, his eyes looking tired. He staggers slightly on his feet as he makes his way to the palace doors. Lancelot is beside him in an instant, placing a hand on Arthur's waist while bringing the blond's arm up and around his shoulder. The knight helps to carry Arthur back, sending Elyan a look before jutting his chin towards the physician's chambers. The blacksmith nods before scurrying off to find Gaius.

Merlin follows behind Lancelot, making sure to keep himself in view of the king as they make their way back to the royal chambers. He can't help but wonder what had made the king act in such way. Was it the illness? Or was it something else? He can only hope Gaius has a cure of some sort, if not, perhaps his mentor would allow him to use magic, just this once.

-----

Merlin paces around the room as Gaius performs his usual checkup routine on the king. His mother hovers by the physician, aiding Gaius in whatever way possible. 

Arthur lies quietly in his bed, only responding as briefly as he can when the need arises. He has yet to say what had occurred. He seems to pale at the very mention of what had transpired and always seems to send Merlin a glance. The warlock can't seem to describe the look in the man's eyes. It seems to carry a sense of apprehension and longing. Two things that Merlin are unable to piece together.

"I suggest you get some sleep, sire," Gaius says, placing a sleeping draught into the king's hand, "Some rest may aid in your road to recovery."

Arthur nods, drinking the brew before handing the empty bottle back. "Thank you, Gaius, Hunith," he says.

They both give him a gentle smile. "If you need anything, send for me."

Arthur nods again before the pair prepares to leave. Gaius packs his medicine satchel while Hunith gives her son an affectionate kiss on the cheek. She wishes him a goodnight then exits the room, closing the door gently behind them. 

Merlin stands awkwardly to the side, unsure now about what he should do. He glances towards his chamber door, debating whether or not to leave. He should give the king some rest, after all he's been through much. "I'll be in my chambers then. If you need anything, just call," Merlin says with a smile. 

He turns to leave the room, only to be stopped by Arthur's quiet voice. "I haven't dismissed you yet..." Merlin stops, looking back at the king. Arthur's sitting up against the headboard of his bed, eyes tired and drained as he stares down at the covers. He picks at the cloth, turning his head up to look at his servant from under his lashes. "You're supposed to stay until I dismiss you."

Merlin sighs, a small smile on his face as he nods his head. "Of course, sire."

He moves to pull a chair up beside the bed, seating himself down by the edge while Arthur lies back down on the pillows. The king turns till he's facing the servant, a satisfied look in his eyes. Arthur reaches a hand out, holding onto Merlin's own.

The warlock doesn't mind the contact, rather he relishes in it. He holds firm to Arthur's hand, leaning his head down to rest on the bed while he stares into the other's eyes. 

"Sweet dreams, prat," Merlin says, voice barely above a whisper in the silent room.

"Goodnight, idiot," Arthur replies. The first smile Merlin has seen all day crossing his face. 

The king shuts his eyes, drifting off into sleep as his servant does the same.