Chapter Text
It wouldn’t be the last time. From that night on, whenever the weight of the world crashed down onto their shoulders, they would shield each other under covers and the cover of sunset, night, and dusk. Not everything was said, sometimes not needed. They spoke through touch and Arthur accepted parts of Merlin not many in this day in age would. In turn, Merlin held Arthur like no one ever had.
It went on and a new routine was ensued. Time moved lowly as no attacks were on the rise, Arthur enjoyed his days in the sun with his men on the pitch and Merlin’s shadow ever present beside him. Even his father was in high spirits. A treaty and a new trade deal was underway, a feast was planned, and not a cross word passed his lips.
It was the high leading to a spiralling downfall.
The day of the feast, the celebration of the year in Uther’s eyes, Arthur had woken groggy. He rolled, his stomach did the same in the opposite direction and he buried his head into Merlin’s side. Merlin had a habit of sleeping on his front, arms up wrapped around the pillow. Arthur curled in and his cold forehead pressed into his lover’s warm bare skin.
Merlin shivered, the summer morning was a wet one and the stone of the castle was unforgiving, never warming like their sleep riddled bodies. Merlin stirred, turned his head to view his prince. He looked a little peaky. He lowered on arm, turning slowly onto his side and stroked the blonde’s hair as Arthur sought to burry himself back into Merlin, this time into his chest. The quiet mornings before the storms of the day in Camelot were their favourite, along with the time when the rest of the castle slumbered. Arthur was allowed to show sides of himself he couldn’t put on display ever and Merlin could be himself at full capacity with no fear.
Merlin pressed the back of his hand to Arthur’s forehead; his temperature was a little off but passed it off and waking up and his body doing the same. He’d make sure to check later how Arthur was feeling once he got some food in him.
Merlin did eventually prize himself out of the prince’s bed, dressed in clothes he now secretly stored in the same wardrobe he hung Arthur’s, and started the day in the role he put on as an act to the rest of the world. When he did get some food at least into Arthur’s chambers however, he got an answer to his earlier worry. From either the smell of the sight, next found Arthur heaving shakily over his chamber pot and Merlin at his side rubbing his back and neck.
Once Arthur appeared to have stopped, Merlin wrapped an arm around his love. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed,” he said, starting to guide Arthur there but the prince tried to shake him off.
“Can’t,” Arthur mumbled, the taste and smell of his own vomit nauseating him further, “have to attempt, attend the... the... meetings, meeting. Need, presence.”
It was a losing battle. Merlin waggled him back into bed and had a whispered word with the guards at his door to inform the physician and the king of Arthur’s health.
Uther wasn’t particularly happy about it, but Arthur did get to spend the day in bed with Merlin’s constant watch over him. Gaius came in a few times to do check-ups and hand over vials for Merlin to administer throughout the day
The day was quiet and one brutal storm was brewing up for the evening.