Chapter Text
Through the years, many people had snuck into his rooms after curfew, for many different reasons. There’d been his father, of course, the guards to wake him for the various emergencies, Morgana to drag him on her various escapades, and, sadly the most often, assassins after his neck.
But never a giant.
Until that day...
He was sound asleep, cocooned beneath his soft quilts and resting atop his downy pillow, his consciousness willingly trapped in that blissful place between reality and possibility. Then two hands locked on his shoulders and shook, yanking him from the sleepy warmth and dragging him cruelly into the cold of awake.
Arthur’s eyes tore open and his body locked.
Knife. Table. Throat.
Instantly alert, adrenaline flooding through him, Arthur’s body automatically moved in time with his thoughts, his hand fisting around the handle of the knife before his mind registered that the intruder was talking.
“Arthur, stop- it’s me, it’s Percival-” Arthur’s mind registered the voice and he dropped the knife, thankfully before he reached phase three. He bolted upright as Percival’s hands fell off his shoulders, leaving him only able to guess where his knight was in the dark.
“Percival- what’re you doing here?” He flung off the covers and swung his feet over the edge, the panicked adrenaline slowly ebbing from his veins, leaving him with only a clear head. He reached for the scarlet shirt on the bedside table. Percival wouldn’t have woken him unless it was important.
“We weren’t sure what else to do, Sire, it’s Merlin.”
Important, indeed.
***
“And you don’t know what’s wrong with him?” Archer asked as he charged through the silent halls, occupied only by the flickering torches and their light breathing.
“No, Sire. He’s unresponsive to anything we do.”
“Have you gotten Gauis?”
“He’s still treating the shakes in Riversford, he’s three days out at least.” Arthur sighed. He’d known that. He’d sent the physician to the town. Said they’d be fine for a few days. Gaius should go help the people who actually needed him.
His big mouth!
“Sire,” Percival began, and Arthur realized he couldn’t remember the quiet giant ever saying anything unprompted before.
“You don’t think- he hasn’t been… cursed ?” The man’s soft tone didn’t change, but Arthur could hear the unspoken worry in it. He felt the same stab him in his heart.
“Don’t worry, Percival. If he has, we’ll fix him.”
We have too.
They turned the corner to the armory and Gwaine’s silhouette popped out of the open doorway, looking garrish in the night’s poor light and making Arthur and Percival reel back.
“Princess, thank heavens!” he breathed as his face, which had been held up in the mask of assurance he always wore when he didn’t know what to do, sagging with relief.
“What’s wrong? And what’s he doing down here of all places?”
Gwaine frowned, worry burning in his chocolate eyes.
“See, that’s the thing…”
Gwaine unhelpfully trailed off. Arthur, trying to stave his worry, shoved through the door and saw inside.
Merlin sat in the middle of the cheerfully lit room, every single weapon, shield, and suit of armor in the entire armory strewn about him. He was dazedly scraping the large shield on his lap, moving the cloth in long, clumsy, circular motions. Arthur’s heart shuddered with relief. His servant was unconscious. He wasn’t bleeding. He wasn’t spasming. He wasn’t attacked. He wasn’t dying. He was fine. But then Arthur really looked at the man. Now he saw the faint sheen of sweat glistening on Merlin's brow, the way his glazed blue eyes stared unseeingly at the opposite wall, the way his normally fair skin looked like freshly fallen snow. The slow, clumsy circles his hands kept tracing around the shield. Oblivious.
Oh. Not fine.
“What’s he doing?” Arthur asked softly, sheathing the sword he couldn’t remember drawing and stepping into the room, cautious, not wanting to scare Merlin. The man didn’t even notice.
“Polishing. Or at least, we think that’s what he’s trying to do. Percy and I were coming back from some night training and found him in a frenzy, grabbing everything off the walls like his life depended on it, then he plopped down and he’s been right there, like this ever since. We’ve tried talking to him- but he won’t respond- it’s like he doesn’t even know we’re here.” Though his face was professional and ready, Gwaine’s voice cracked on the last sentence.
“Or doesn’t know he’s here.” Percival breathed from behind them. His tone equally bothered.
Arthur continued to creep through the room, silently dancing around the mess of armor and various sharp pointy things, until he came to a stop several feet away from Merlin.
“Merlin?” He asked, forcing his voice to be gentle. Like you're calming a horse.
“Merlin? Are you alright?” Merlin didn’t respond. Just continued to stare blindly at the wall, blinking languidly.
“Merlin?” He tried again, slowly lowering himself onto his haunches so he’d look less threatening. Heaven forbid he make things worse.
“We’re not going to hurt you, Merlin. You're safe. Maybe it’s time you stopped being such a clotpole and graced us with your presence. I think Gwaine and Percival would be relieved. Babies that they are, between you and me, their pretty worried. So how about you come back to us, and we’ll sort this all out and put them to bed - how does that sound?” Arthur said, fighting against the adrenalin screaming inside him and speaking low and slow.
No response.
He looked back at Gwaine and Percival helplessly, they only frowned further.
“Have either of you noticed anything strange? Before now, I mean, has he been himself? Or done anything out of the ordinary?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
“I can’t even say if I’ve even seen him this past week.” Gwaine sounded bitter and Arthur looked up in surprise to find the knight was staring down at Merlin, shame burning in his eyes.
“It’s not your fault, Gwaine,” Percival said before Arthur could “I haven’t seen him much either.”
“It’s not either of your faults, after the bandits on patrol last week, he was in the tavern for two days. And he’s been working all over the place catching up, ever since.” Arthur supplied. Neither of them were in the wrong here. Their hearts were getting in the way of their clarirty. He needed answers.
“Could that be it, then? Could he have worked himself to this state?” Percival asked. Pain lanced in Arthur’s stomach. Was that it? He hadn’t given Merlin too many extra chores, had he? Was this his fault?
Similar pain flashed in Gwaine’s eyes and his face crumpled.
“Oh Merls, I’m sorry. I should’ve known. I would’ve helped you…”
Great. Now Gwaine thought this was his fault. They were absolutely no help to Merlin in their state. They needed to pulled themselves together.
“Alright,” Arthur said abruptly, but still not above a whisper, straightening and half-turning so both both his knights and Merlin was in his view.
“That’s enough of that. When Merlin’s exausted, he doesn’t do this. He collapses like a girl. There’s something else at play here. Something we’re missing.”
“Are you suggesting magic?” Gwaine asked, his face recomposed in a mask, his voice pinched with the effort.
“I’m not ruling it out.”
“What would be the purpose in enchanting him to do… this?” Percival asked.
Arthur sighed. That was the question that had been gnawing on the back of his mind. There was no plausible purpose! They weren’t even sure what… “this” was!
“I don’t know.”
They were silent for a moment. All staring at Merlin who continued on, completely unaware.
“So, what’re we going to do about it?” Gwaine finally broke the silence.
“Get him back to the infirmary.” Arthur decided the moment he said it. Instantly he was filled with a strange sort of… empowered relief. He had a direction to go, a place to start, a way to help. “Gaius must have something in all those books that can help us.”
They nodded and Gwaine glanced back at Merlin before squaring his jaw and turning away from him to face Arthur.
“Right. I’ll wake the knights.” Arthur nodded. Good. They needed all hands on deck.
Gwaine marched out of the room stiffly and was barely out of sight when he broke into a run, footfalls echoing through the hall.
“Do you need me to carry him?” Percival asked. Arthur frowned, studying the boy who seemed to have only grown paler. And was he shuddering? Tremors ran up and down the servant, jarring his circle pattern.
“Let me try something else first.” Arthur strode forward again, nimbly stepping around and over the scattered dangers.
“Maybe clear these up a bit? He’ll need a clear path.” He called softly before crouching down again before Merlin.
“Merlin? Merlin, can you hear me? Hi. It’s me again. Think your ready to join the land of the living again?” He could hear the soft clanking of shifting weaponry as the friendly giant tried to move them as quietly as possible.
“You know,” Arthur continued, slowly reaching out his hand, making sure to do it in Merlin’s vision so he could see and react if he realized.
“I think that shield’s very polished now. Good job. You must be tired, huh? It’s late, maybe it’s about time to hit the sack, don’t you? You ready to go home?” Slowly, gingerly, Arthur laid his hand on Merlin’s shoulder.
Merlin blinked slightly, but other than that there was no change.
Arthur’s heart fell, but his voice was still light and encouraging.
“It’s been a long day, getting some sleep would be nice, huh? Peaceful?”
Merlin twitched slightly. His face shifted for an instant almost a frown.
“ Ne’ worh… ” He mumbled and Arthur’s heart soared. He was responding! That couldn’t be bad, right? This was good?
“What, Merlin? What did you say? Can you understand me? Do you want to go home?”
“... Artr nes m’ worh…” Merlin mumbled again, frowning ever so slightly off in the distance.
Worry lanced through Arthur again, replacing he relief from before.
He wasn’t making sense- was something wrong with his mind? Arthur couldn’t understand him!
“Merlin?”He asked, gently tightening his hold on the servants shoulder, as if the hold could pull Merlin back to him.
He was about to continue when Merlin, brows furrowed over his blank eyes spoke on, suddenly having lots to say.
“ Ne’ m’. Gain ow o’ avern, gaysis rout, eli’n ift fer ‘en, civil rainin’, n’ohn els, ne’ m’. Lan’iloh ne’s…. En’s ‘lon’y Artr nes ‘o l’ste… Art nes efry’in… ban’i’s...potect….” Merlin’s meaningless mumbling slowly drifted off, his expression going blank again. Arthur’s heart lurched, but he shoved the panic away.
Merlin would be fine. Merlin would be fine. Merlin would be fine. Merlinwouldbefinemerlinwouldbe-
“Merlin, I swear by the stars, I’ll fix you. I’ll do whatever it takes, your going to be okay.” He promised, his voice barely audible, but the vow ringing in his heart.
“That’s wonderful, Merlin. I completely agree,” he said louder, a faint part of him still hoping to reach his friend.
“A night’s rest is just what we need…. So let’s just…” the moment of truth. With his one hand still firmly on Merlin’s shoulder, his other went to the shield, gently pulling it away from the smaller man’s grasp. It came without resistance. He set it beside them, every fiber of his body attuned to his actions.
“There you go, like that. Letting go can be hard sometimes, your doing great…” Arthur mumbled absently as his hands drifted under his friend’s elbows. Time seemed to hold it’s breath as he gently pulled up. But destiny’s favor shone on them and Merlin willingly let him guide him to his feet, swaying slightly even as Arthur slung the man’s arm over him to steady him.
“ Artr nes m’.” Merlin tried again.
“That’s exactly right, up to bed, there you go. Let’s just take it nice and slow…” Arthur said, still not understanding a word the man said, just taking one step at a time, guiding him home.
***
“Maiden’s Legs, Princess, if you ask me that one more time I swear I’ll-”
“I’m your king! If I hear another threat from your lips I’ll cut out your tounge-”
“Gwaine! Maybe direct that energy towards finding what is hurting Merlin?”
“What do you think I’m doing?!”
“I think your-”
“Shove a sock in it, Lance- how am I supposed to think when Arthur badgers me every second if I’ve found anything- like I’d keep something that could help Merlin secret-”
“Sir Gwaine, calm down or I will remove you from this room.”
“Like blinking blazes you will-”
“Just calm down-”
“I will if I have to, don’t test me- Sire, we’re all trying our very hardest to find something and some of us are behaving less than ourselves because we’re worried and helpless-”
“Come out and say it to my face-”
“Sir Gwaine!-”
“Arthur!” Percival’s voice broke through the heated debate from where he knelt beside Merlin’s bed. “He’s burning again, and he’s starting to shake, every time one of you says something he flinches.”
Silence.
Shame.
Then everyone turned and attacked the books with a newfound ferver.
***
Hours later, with dawn slowly breaking, Elyan’s voice cut through the silence.
“Arthur, I think I found something.” Every knight scattered across the room stiffened, looking over the stacks of dusty books surrounding them and over at Elyan, who was nearly hidden by all the piles surrounding Gauis’s desk. Elyan looked at Arthur and nodded.
“I think I found it.” He said again, and the room let out a breath, as if it had been afraid it’d heard wrong. They shoved their books away and darted over, clustering around him worriedly. Only Gwaine remaining where he was, looking anxiously over at them from his vigil by Merlin’s bed.
“What is it? Is it magic?” Arthur asked urgently, his hand sliding to his sheath as if he could vanquish the unseen threat the second it was labeled.
Merlin whimpered below him at the last word and Gwaine spun, putting a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry, mate. We’ll find whoever did this to you. You’ll be fine.”
“Actually Gwaine,” Elyan interrupted “It’s not magic.” The room all heaved a heavy sigh of relief. Percival frowned.
“Then what is it? If not magic, what could make him act this way?”
“It’s called ‘Night Living’-”
“We’re not talking about me-” Gwaine interrupted distractedly, as he rubbed the damp cloth over Merlin’s burning forehead again.
“No, not that sort of Night Life- it says here it’s a rare desiese-” bodies locked and breath shuddered and heads turned to Merlin lying innocent and helpless on his cot.
“It’s not fatal-” Elyan exclaimed and everyone released held breaths and turned back to glower at him.
“You should’ve led with that, mate!”
“What is it then?”
“I’m trying to tell-”
“That’s it.” Percival, gentle giant who only spoke when he thought it absolutely necessary, exclaimed, reaching over and grabbing the book before reading aloud in a soft voice.
“Night Living is a non-fatal brain activation in sleep, that can cause various effects, such as walking or talking during sleep.”
“He was asleep?”
“Then how did he get down there?”
“Did he know what he was doing? Was he aware?”
“What about the fever and the sickness? Did the Night Living cause that?”
“How do we cure him?”
“Hang on, hang on, I’ve found something: Night Living in of itself is not dangerous or harmful to the brain or body, however the subjects minds are confused when they are in such a state. They can see, but sometimes often think their seeing some other room or place than where their at. Their whole brain is not activated so their motor skills are likely impaired. Caution and supervision are recommended for safety during Night Living. Waking is not recommended, patients might be confused and react defensively.”
“Again, is there a cure?”
“What’s the cause? Why now?”
“It isn’t what’s making him sick?”
“It says here that the cause isn’t anything special. Some people are just born with the inclination for it. What else on cause...? Cause, cause… oh, people who Night Live often have a ‘purpose’ in their actions. Often they revisit familiar places they go when their awake, but sometimes their driven to do things outside of their usual patterns... no, that’s not it… hang on…”
“So, what he was doing with the weapons-”
“He was on a mission?”
“... there is no cure, most often occurs in small children and generally diminishes by adulthood…”
“Clearly that happened.” Arthur mumbled.
“Ah- found it! However, Night Living can reoccur or more frequent in a persons life based on dramatic changes in their day-life environment or situation,”
“So it’s not that.” Elyan mused.
“Changes in physical, mental, or emotional health…”
Gwaine frowned, looking down to study his patient’s moon-white face.
“So he got sick, and then the Night Living thing-y came back?”
“Or- oh…”
That caught their attention. They stiffened and looked away from Merlin and back at Percival.
“What is it?” Lancelot asked apprehensivly.
Percival looked up to meet their gazes.
“A minor to dramatic increase in stress.”
Oh.
All of them felt the truth ringing in that statement.
That was the one.
“Oh Merlin, you big girl.” Arthur sighed worriedly.
“What could have stressed him so much so suddenly, it’s been a perfectly quiet-” Lancelot began but Gwaine bolted upright on his stool, swiveling to face his brothers.
“The bandits!”
Recognition dawned in their hearts.
Oh. The bandits.
“But we see bandits all the time.” Percival protested.
“Why these?” Elyan asked.
“Maybe because those three got away?” Gwaine challenged, a bite in his voice as he glared at Arthur. Arthur glared back, heat rising in his face.
“Oh, and what you have done? Merlin was at-”
“Swordpoint.” Lancelot finished, seeming to go a shade paler as he looked at his unconsious friend.
“That’s what he’s stressed about.” Elyan said, understanding flashed across his face.
“And their still out there.” Arthur growled, self-hatred burning his voice.
“It’s not your fault, Sire. You did what any of us would’ve done- were about to do, actually.” Leon promised.
“They’ll never touch him.” Gwaine vowed darkly, wringing the dripping cloth out before placing it back on Merlin’s forehead.
“Never.” Arthur agree with the same look in his eyes.
“So, this isn’t ridiculously dangerous to Merlin,and there’s nothing we can do to stop it from happening again, so what are we going to do?” Percival asked, looking over at Arthur. Arthur, never tearing his eyes away from Merlin, said.
“We’ll treat him and when he’s better, we’ll tell him that there’s no way those three can hurt him. We’re going to protect him.”
The Knights nodded their agreement, steeling their eyes, clenching their jaws, squaring their shoulders.
Good, noble, brave intentions.
Stupid knights.
***
Things To Do While Gaius Is Gone:
Collect herbs,(daily)
Gauis’s rout, (daily)
Drag Gwaine from tavern, (daily)
Help Elyan find gift for Gwen,
Percival’s training, (daily)
Talk with Gwen about what's bothering her Talk to Arthur about paying attention to his wife,
Do the barrack’s snow sweeping for Lancelot,
Keep an eye on Lancelot’s cold from last week (check if the cough is actually quieting), (note to self, it has quieted, still under watch for other signs of lingering illness)
Sort the knight family records for Geoffrey,
Deliver suspicious sorted records to Leon,
Millie's third term exaimination,
Cook's supplies run, (thrice weekly)
Merlin skimmed past the next three pages of the instructions he’d written himself to the mostly blank page, with only one word from the previous list staining it.
Protect Them
As good a place as any , he thought, dipping his quill into the ink.
Dear Freya,
I’ve sleepwalked again. Gwaine and Percival walked in on me in the armoury, apparently trying to polish everything with metal on it. Apparently I believe in working in my sleep now.
I knew I was pushing myself a bit too hard, I should’ve probably done it a bit slower after the kidnapping.
I didn’t think those bandits would find me so quickly. That’s why Arthur and the knights think I was doing it. They think I’m scared the men will come after me.
They reassured me that they’ll protect me and the bandits won’t be able to hurt me, so I can stop worrying. It was very sweet.
I didn’t have the heart to tell them when I escaped from the “tavern” I spelled the bandits.
Fresh slates.
I couldn’t risk leaving them with a grudge against Arthur.
Besides, if I told them I’ve been stressed because the bandits almost got Arthur- because I almost failed, they’d never believe me anyway.
I wish you were here.
But I already know what you’d say.
You’d tell me I need to remember to eat. That I need to sleep. That I need to take care of me so I can protect him.
I get that. It’s just hard to remember when he’s being attacked, or poinsened, or captured, or nearly assasained, or spelled every time I turn my back.
If I look away they’ll die. Like you.
Maybe it’d be easier if I wasn’t his manservant. If I didn’t do all those extra things for them. But they need those things so much. And it’s the only thing that pulls me out of the dark void I was telling you about. The one with the thoughts? Helping them is the only thing that pulls me out of that. Maybe that’s why I’ve been spared when everyone I love seems to die. Maybe it’s so I can make their lives worth living.
I’m trying.
But I’ll try your way too, Freya.
I love you. If I could have one selfish moment, it’d be to just end it so I could see you.
But don’t worry, love...I’m not going to let the void win. I have to be strong for them. For Albion.
My heart is yours, Always.
Merlin.
Merlin leaned away from the leather-bound book, inspecting it for mistakes. Freya didn’t deserve mistakes. Satisfied, he dipped it into the ink again and wrote:
Things To Do When I Sneak Off Of Bedrest Tomorrow