Work Text:
Once Arthur was sure the fire wasn’t going to sputter and die if he stopped feeding it kindling, he sat back and warmed his hands in front of it. It wasn’t until the tingling in his fingers had faded away that he spared a thought for Merlin. It had to have been about an hour now and there was no sign of him. Surely unloading the boat couldn’t take this much time. Vowing to check on Merlin in a few minutes, something caught his eye. He didn’t recognize the white cloth floating down the river, but it made him cock his head. He watched it tossed by the current until it was out of view.
It wasn’t long before he saw something else out of the corner of his eye—something red and laced with gold. “My shirt!” Arthur threw off his cloak and made a dash to the river. The current wasn’t strong but the water was like ice. The water soaked into his boots and the cold stung Arthur’s legs. But he made it there just in time to grab his tunic before it floated away forever like whatever item of his clothing he’d already lost. He waded back to the fire and stripped off his boots and leggings. He hung his red tunic from a nearby branch so it would dry and then wiggled his bare toes at the flames of the fire. It didn’t take long before the warmth made him feel human again. “Merlin!” he shouted, receiving no answer.
He watched the river closely for anything else and, sure enough, saw a spot of blue. “Oh, not my best cloak!” This time, the water hit his bare skin and made him shiver from the beginning. But he pushed his way past all that until he was thigh-deep in the water and close enough to make a grab for the cloak. The fabric was heavy with water but he held it tight and pulled hard, dragging it until it was safe hanging by the fire as well. “Merlin!” With a sigh, “Oh for Heaven’s sake, Merlin. I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s not keeping my things safe. I know you’re inept but this is ridiculous.”
Arthur walked upstream along the riverbank to where they had secured the boat. The boat was still tied down, but it was half in the water. One trunk teetered on the edge of the boat. It was sideways, open. Its contents could easily have all spilled out as the boat bobbed in the current. Angry as Arthur would have been about losing more of his clothes to the river, that particular trunk also held the papers they would need to travel safely through the next kingdom. Merlin had wanted to carry the documents on them, just in case, but Merlin could be clumsy and forgetful and it seemed safer to wrap the papers in skins and put them in the water-tight trunk. If the trunk fell out of the boat, it would float. But if Merlin fell out of the boat, he would get drenched.
Except Merlin was drenched. Not only was the trunk on the edge of the boat, but so was Merlin. Merlin was bent in half over the side, his legs and a hand underwater. The young man had passed out apparently trying to get back into the boat. His body on the one side of the boat balanced out the trunk perched on the other side. If Arthur went to save one, the other would topple right into the water.
It was Merlin or the documents. The documents or Merlin. Arthur stood for a minute, contemplating the weighty choice.
“This is absurd.” Gripping the near end of the boat, Arthur gave a great heave. Then he ducked down and made a grab for an oar. He lunged forward and grabbed hold of Merlin’s collar just as he used the oar to knock the trunk back into the boat.
The boat rocked and almost tipped, but Merlin spilled back into the boat on top of Arthur. Laughing, Arthur pushed Merlin, rolling him off. “Honestly, you’re pathetic, Merlin. I give you one little order and you manage to screw it up.” Merlin lay on his back on the floor of the boat, wet, pale, and still unconscious.
It took Arthur some time to drag the trunk out of the boat to dry land. Immediately he checked for the documents and found them safe. After a moment of some consideration, Arthur took them out and stuffed them down the front of his shirt to look after them. Too bad he couldn’t do the same with his servant. “What am I going to do with you?” With a disapproving sigh and shake of the head, he looked down at Merlin’s wet and pale face. A smirk bubbled up to the surface of his own face. “Actually, I think I know.” He reached down to lightly strike Merlin’s cheek in hopes of waking him, but Arthur gave such a start he nearly tipped the boat right over. The young man was hot with fever. And not just any fever, but one far hotter than the fire Arthur had been tending to.
Surely Arthur must have only imagined such heat? Arthur carefully pressed the back of his hand to the forehead and pulled it away almost at once. He hadn’t imagined a thing. No wonder Merlin had passed out. And, yet, Merlin’s skin was covered in gooseflesh and his body shook with shivers as it tried to heat his extremities. “Okay…” Arthur said slowly, trying to think. “Maybe I don’t know what I should do with you after all.”
Leaving the belongings by the riverbank, Arthur gathered Merlin in his arms and carried him through the woods to the small clearing where he’d set up the fire. The flames weren’t quite as high, but it was still crackling, and shifting the log a little made sparks fly up. Arthur deposited Merlin on Arthur’s dry cloak and, at once, set to work stripping Merlin of all wet cloths. Off came shoes and pants and underpants. Off came belt and long tunic and undershirt. Naked and exposed, Merlin’s body began shaking with cold. Arthur tried wrapping the cloak around, but Merlin still shook with fierce shivers that took over his entire body in an unnatural, jerky, violent sort of spasming. It was pitiful how unable to control it Merlin was.
“Oh, of course,” said Arthur sarcastically. He pulled off his shirt. “Leave it to you to need that, Merlin.” Without a second thought on the matter, Arthur pulled aside the folds of the thick, velvet cloak and lay down on it beside Merlin. There wasn’t enough fabric to go around them both, so Arthur covered Merlin with his body and let the cloak cover him, trapping warmth there.
Pressing his legs against Merlin’s was like getting into bed with two strong icicles. He wondered how long Merlin had been dangling there over the side of the boat, half in the water like that. It had to have been ages for Merlin’s legs to grow this cold. He wondered if Merlin might not have lost the use of them permanently. Well, if he had, it was his own fault. He should have told Arthur he wasn’t feeling well. He should have told Arthur there was something wrong. Merlin was always so good at complaining about the tasks he’d been given… Arthur couldn’t imagine why the young man hadn’t mentioned feeling so bad as to possibly pass out.
It had come on so suddenly, though. Merlin had seemed fine yesterday and that morning. Shortly after breakfast, they had been attacked by a small band of forest men who had been easy enough to deal with. Granted, Merlin had been hit in the back of the head by one and had stumbled off into the forest. And, granted, their leader had run off into the forest after him. And Arthur could have sworn he’d heard some sort of animal roar. But all the men had run off and Merlin had emerged afterward looking all right. Maybe a little woozy, with a scratch or two, but apparently he’d fallen into a prickly bush. That was so like Merlin.
Merlin shuddered against Arthur’s body and Arthur nestled closer to him. His body was shaking with shivers and didn’t seem to be getting any better. Arthur was going to have to step it up. Arthur tangled his legs around Merlin’s cold ones. Arthur wrapped his arm around Merlin’s middle to hold him closer. And Arthur pressed his cheek against Merlin’s to—“Ah!” Arthur pulled back. His skin actually hurt. Merlin wasn’t just feverish; he was burning up.
Tentatively, Arthur moved forward, tilting his head. He couldn’t even get close enough to touch his forehead to Merlin’s forehead. The heat was outrageous. It was like being in bed with the hottest of hot coals. This wasn’t natural. In fact, this couldn’t even be possible.
Arthur’s heart sunk. He had heard of people’s fevers spiking so high that they lost their minds and never woke up again. No one could be as hot as Merlin was now and walk away from it afterward unharmed. Whatever happened, Merlin was lost to him.
It took everything the prince had in him to not be sick to his stomach at the thought. Sure Merlin was a servant, but he’d been through a lot with him and Merlin was always so keep in taking care of him. He couldn’t imagine not having Merlin in his life.
“Arthur…”
His heart skipped and stomach lurched. Arthur hugged Merlin tight. The heat Merlin was giving off was painful, but he didn’t care. Merlin shouldn’t be able to breathe at this point, let alone speak. This must be it. Merlin’s last words. He pressed his lips to Merlin’s lips, giving a proper sendoff. Then he hugged Merlin even tighter. “It’s all right. It’ll be over soon. Just relax.”
“I would,” Merlin said, actually replying to Arthur’s rambling reassurances. “But you’re squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe.” Immediately, Arthur released him. Merlin shivered and then nestled against Arthur’s chest. “That’s much better.” That quirky smile of his made Arthur’s heart leap. But he was terribly confused. He was close enough to know Merlin was still dangerously hot, yet Merlin seemed better. In fact, he wasn’t even shivering any more. “What’s this?” Merlin patted Arthur’s padded chest.
It took Arthur a few seconds to remember. “Oh. The passage papers. I took them out of the trunk to—”
“The trunk!” Merlin went tense and tried to pull away, but the cloak and Arthur were wrapped too tightly around him. “The lock snapped open as I was unloading and—”
“I know. I think I lost a pair of underpants, but unless you want to scour the riverbank for them… and I don’t think you should do that in your condition…”
Merlin blinked at him. “My condition?”
“You’ve got a pretty bad fever. It came on so suddenly. I can’t imagine what caused it. Most likely an illness you picked up somewhere.”
Merlin shook his head. “I’m fine. A little cold, maybe, but I don’t think I’m feverish. In fact, I’ll go get your luggage now and show you.” With that, he pulled back and rose to his feet. It was then that Merlin seemed to realize two things. The first was that he was naked. He looked down at his body, then at Arthur and the cloak, and then back at his own body that had reacted appropriately to the fact it had been rubbing against the prince’s. The second thing he realized was that he was most definitely feverish. His head pounded and vision blurred and if it hadn’t been for Arthur’s quick thinking, he would have hit the ground.
Clinging to Arthur, he smiled as the warm, strong arms wrapped around him and guided him back down again. A cold, damp cloth touched his forehead. He shivered and tried to bury his head in Arthur’s shirt. “Maybe just a touch of fever.”
Shaking his head, “God, Merlin. You’re really burning up.” Arthur pulled back a little. It actually hurt to have Merlin so close. The heat was excruciating. In fact… “Merlin, I think you’re on fire!” He wasn’t actually, but the cloak around him seemed to be starting to smoke. Arthur pulled away and pushed the cloak off. He pressed his red with gold trim wet tunic to Merlin’s cheek and forehead. The cloth smoked and, suddenly, Arthur realized there was a small hole in the fabric that was so warm it wasn’t wet any more. Yet Merlin’s eyes blinked at him. “You’re so hot with fever. How are you… how are you even still alive?”
Merlin shook his head. “Must not be as bad as you think.”
It was bad. It was unbelievably bad. Merlin really should be dead by now, but wasn’t. It was a miracle. Either that or… magic. It was Arthur’s turn to shiver. “Merlin.” His voice was strangely tentative. If Merlin were some sort of magician or mage or wizard or something, he wouldn’t be welcome in Camelot. Hell, he wouldn’t be safe in Camelot. Arthur didn’t really want to know, but had to ask. There was no other way to explain what was going on, but he had to know. “Merlin, are you… is this magic?”
With a laugh, Merlin closed his eyes. He spoke slowly, voice thick with fatigue. “I knew you’d figure it out some day. Yes, I’m a wizard. I have astounding magical powers, the likes of which are unparalleled. I command dragons, I’m revered by druids, and I move objects with my mind. I’ve actually single-handedly saved your life and your kingdom more times than I can count. Yet I love scrubbing your underthings and emptying your chamber pot so much that I give it all up for the chance to have you order me around as your servant and lie here suffering when I could heal myself.”
Arthur sat there, looking down at Merlin, that pale face, fiery flushed cheeks, weak body. Tentatively, he reached down and swept a few strands of dark hair from Merlin’s forehead. For as much sense at the explanation made, the idea that Merlin was magical was downright preposterous. Maybe… maybe all those dips in the icy river had frozen Arthur and made it seem like Merlin was hotter than he really was in comparison. Maybe some of the sparks from the fire had hit the tunic where it hung and burned that hole in it. Maybe Arthur was the one with the fever and he was imagining this whole thing.
All Arthur knew for sure was that he was going to make Merlin shine his armor for two days straight when they got home as punishment for joking about such a serious subject… and for making Arthur worry about him. He pressed a kiss to the top of Merlin’s head.