Merlin coughed painfully, causing Arthur to wince.

"Merlin." he said, trying to disguise the worry in his voice. "What on earth are you doing?"

Merlin froze, the laundry he was folding hanging loosely over one arm. "Um..." he tried to decide on the best response. "Laundry folding- ing?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Arthur asked loudly. For a moment, Merlin flinched, thinking perhaps Arthur had somehow found out about his magic and was about to go into a rant on how Merlin had betrayed him by lying to him. But no, he decided. If Arthur found out he had magic, Merlin would already be in the dungeons, or dead.

Which did nothing to help the feeling of unease in his stomach.

"You look bloody awful." Arthur continued, and Merlin felt his shoulders relax. "How could Gaius let you go to work like this?" Merlin looked down and swallowed, ignoring how much it pained his raw throat. "What?" Arthur saw the guilty look in his manservant's eye.

"Gaius is- in the lower town." Merlin said after a moment. "There's been an out break of- something." It sounded false in his own ears. "Something dangerous." he added, hoping it would give his story some more bone.

Arthur picked up on the obvious false hood, but decided to contemplate why Merlin would lie about Gaius's location later, and worry about his sick idiot now.

"Go to bed." Arthur instructed Merlin, who set down the laundry without complaint. He must have been worse off then Arthur had originally thought- Merlin is usually rebellious to the point of stupidity, always doing the opposite of whatever his king instructed. "Are you alright getting there?"

"I've been in Camelot long enough to know my way to my room." Merlin turned to leave. That wasn't what Arthur had meant, of course Merlin knew his way to Gaius's chambers. Arthur had been worried that Merlin might not be able to make it there on his own. The boy did look awful, breathing heavily at the slightest movement, off coloured skin, a tad of sweat on his brow. Merlin's clothing looked rumpled, as if he had worn the same shirt and trousers to bed and hadn't bothered to smoothen them out before bringing Arthur his breakfast. And he was missing that dumb dishrag he wore around his neck, every day without prevail. Arthur had seen Merlin without his neckerchief maybe twice, and neither of them had been very good situations. The fact that the idiot wasn't wearing it today was an omen of bad luck.

Arthur just didn't realise how much worse things would become.