It was late autumn when Arthur decided he had had enough of the bustle of the city. One night he told Merlin to prepare for a hunt while the servant was dealing with his evening duties. "A big storm is coming." Merlin warned, "We shouldn't go out in this weather." But of course, Prince Arthur never listened to anyone and this time was no exception. Seeing that his warning fell on deaf ears Merlin sighed resignedly, "I'll start packing in the morning." and tossed a log on the fire.

"Merlin! You know, if we actually want to catch something, you must at least try to be quiet," Arthur said as he angrily put his crossbow aside. "You act like you haven't been on a hunting trip before."

"It's not my fault that you can't shoot." Merlin teased with a grin on his face. "Maybe you should find a new sport." The glance Arthur gave his servant could have killed anyone.

"If I may say, though, Sire," he added more seriously, "It really doesn't seem like you are in the mood for hunting right now. I think we should probably head back to the castle, anyway. The wind is picking up, it's getting cold, and we don't want to get caught in this rainstorm."

"Don't be such a girl! A little rain won't do any harm. Come on, hurry, don't forget the crossbow!" And with that Arthur started walking deeper into the forest, on the lookout for any fresh animal tracks. "Prat" groaned the warlock under his breath, struggling with the weight of Arthur's hunting gear. "I heard that!" Shouted the prince. "Clotpole," muttered Merlin.

He didn't mind these trips as much as he told Arthur. He hated killing innocent animals but he liked to spend time in the woods with Arthur, who was more relaxed and calmer here than in the castle and acted more like a friend. Usually. All in all, he enjoyed the trips, aside from a few bandit attacks on occasion, but this time he had a bad feeling.

Some time, later it began to rain. At first, it was just a few drops but soon it turned into a downpour. The prince realized that they couldn't go further as the storm began to rage around them in earnest. The sky rumbled loudly and a bolt of lightning zigzagged across the sky as they tried to find their way home.

"We have to stop. We can't see anything in this bloody rain." Merlin looked at Arthur while he tried to avoid tripping over the fallen branches and slipping in the mud. "Yeah, right. The rain is our only problem."

"Shut up, Merlin. I'm trying to think here." They stopped under the foliage of a large tree temporarily. Merlin waited for Arthur's solution, which never came. The sky was almost as dark as night, the tree offered very little protection, with the wind and rain piercing through their clothes like frozen knives, and Merlin felt like he was going numb. "There are a lot of caves nearby," Merlin suggested, finally losing patience and wanting to get out of this weather as quickly as possible. "We could use one as shelter."

"Really? You want me to believe that you, who gets lost even in your own room, know for sure that there are caves nearby?" Arthur said in disbelief.

"Gaius often sends me to collect herbs," shrugged Merlin. "We aren't far from Camelot, I recognize this place." Arthur didn't need to know that his magic helped him a lot to orient himself. "Besides I don't get lost often. I'm not that helpless."

"Yeah, sure," said Arthur mockingly. "Though, surprisingly, your cave idea isn't a completely useless one. Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's look for a cave, don't just stand there."

They made their way over the slippery, obstacle-filled ground as fast as they could. Every now and then there was a bright flash of lightning followed by a loud thunderclap, with the rain pouring down even harder than before.

They reached a hill and spotted an opening on its side. A cave, finally. It was a hard way up to the mouth of the cave; they were constantly slipping and tripping but eventually they reached it and entered into the darkness.

The cave wasn't big but at least it was dry and they were safe from the raging storm outside. They quickly made a small fire from the branches they found. In the light of the fire Arthur noticed that they were both soaked to the bone and that his friend was trembling violently.

"Come on, it's not that cold. Let's find something dry to change into. I'm sure even you thought about packing dry clothes." Arthur tried to cheer Merlin up, but it didn't seem to work.

"Yes, of course I packed spare clothes. I'm not that incompetent," said Merlin. What he didn't mention was that he didn't have a spare set for himself. "I could argue with that," smirked Arthur.

While Arthur changed Merlin started making dinner for them, knowing, Arthur would be ravenously hungry after such a long day. Fortunately, he packed enough food and if they rationed the water, it should be enough for the night. In the morning, hopefully the storm would have settled down enough that they would be able to search for more.

For a while they sat in silence next to the fire. The prince occasionally tried to start a conversation but Merlin's only answers were uncharacteristically short and a little dismissive. Hours dragged by like this as the storm kept them trapped in the cave. Trying to kill the time, Arthur would get up, walk around, check on the weather, and glance over at Merlin, hoping his mood would have improved but Merlin just sat there and stared at the fire.

Arthur thought that the fire would help them get warmer and to him, it provided some comfort but beside him Merlin's trembling just grew worse.

"What's wrong with you?" Arthur asked, concerned when, now, hours later, his servant hadn't gotten any better.

"Oh, nothing really. Just a prat decided to go out hunting in the middle of a rainstorm even when he was warned about the weather," Merlin turned away from the fire to say sarcastically. He looked at Arthur like he wanted to say 'I told you so. This trip was a bad idea,' but he remained silent and turned back to watch something in the fire that only he could see.

After that, only the rain and their quiet breathing was heard. This whole situation made Arthur uneasy. It was so unlike Merlin, being so motionless and wordless, he didn't know what to do.

"We can't do anything until morning," Arthur said finally, "Hopefully by then, the rain will have stopped. For now, we should get some sleep."

Merlin was the first to fall asleep. Arthur watched him for a while, feeling a little bad for making the boy come in this weather. Maybe he should have listened to Merlin. They could have come on another day. All of sudden he looked up from his contemplation, 'What am I thinking? I am the prince; I do whatever I want to do and whenever I want to do it. Merlin was just lucky, there's no way he can predict the weather.' Arthur tossed a few more logs on the fire then he followed his servant to the land of dreams.

Arthur didn't know what woke him up. It was still dark outside the cave, the storm was still going on, maybe subsided a little, but clearly, nowhere near spent. In the cave everything seemed calm as the fire crackled softly. He didn't think that was what had woken him up.

Then he heard it: the wheezing and coughing – like a drowning animal. To Arthur's horror, they came from his manservant. The prince sat up and knelt beside Merlin. He tried to wake him up but the man remained stubbornly unconscious. He felt his forehead. It was sweaty and hot with fever.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted again and this time he got a quiet groan in response. A few more shouts later, Merlin slowly opened his blue eyes.

"Oh, thank god," Arthur said in relief. He knew that the best thing for a sick person was to rest and he wanted his friend to get as much as he could but when Merlin hadn't responded to his call, he'd been so afraid that this wasn't a natural sleep; even the ill should wake when prodded.

"Arthur? What's happening?" Those eyes were clouded with confusion and pain and Arthur once again didn't know what to do.

"Nothing serious, you're just a bit sick. Tomorrow you'll polish my armour as if nothing had happened." Arthur desperately wanted to believe his own words. He didn't want to believe that his stubbornness and carelessness caused this. He was no physician but even he could tell that this wasn't a negligible illness.

"Everything will be all right. You can go back to sleep." It took a while for Merlin to understand what he was saying. "'kay. Arthur?" The prince pulled a bit closer to him. "Yes, Merlin?" Merlin's answer was so quiet that he almost couldn't hear it. "Next time, please listen to me." With that, the young warlock fell asleep once again.

The next few hours were almost peaceful. Apart from a few coughing fits and a slightly rising fever, nothing happened. It was the calm before the storm. Arthur collected some rainwater in their waterskin and searched for a piece of clean cloth. He placed the cool cloth on Merlin's forehead to try to reduce the fever and for a while, it seemed to work.

Around midnight everything went wrong. Merlin's fever spiked. Arthur knew that that wasn't good, that something was very wrong. The man in front of him stopped sweating, moaned in pain every now and then, sometimes mumbled incoherently but otherwise was still and silent; two things he had never wanted to see. He'd always joked about wanting Merlin to shut up, but he'd never been serious about it.

Merlin's breathing got worse, shallow, almost non-existent. Arthur desperately tried everything he could think of. He attempted to cool him down, to get him to drink some water but none of it seemed to work. All he could do was sit there with the man he considered his friend, as close to him as a little brother, cradling him in his arms and pleading with him to stay with him.

The boy got another coughing fit which left him out of breath. Merlin gasped one more time, then his raspy breathing stopped. Arthur frantically shook him once, twice. "No, no, Merlin, please don't leave me now! You can't do this to me!" His father had told him that no man was worth his tears. In this moment, though, he no longer cared about his father's twisted ideas of love. He cried openly, begging his little brother to come back to him. "Insult me, call me a prat, a clotpole, cabbagehead, anything. I promise, I won't be angry. Just breathe!"

"You can't leave me now, please Merlin, wake up," he sobbed into the younger boy's hair as he hugged him. When he got no response, he put his servant down and as a desperate attempt he slapped Merlin and hit his chest a few times.

And when he almost gave up all hope, Merlin took a small breath, then another and another. He was still feverish and very sick, but he was alive, and Arthur was extremely grateful for that.

It appeared that the worst was over, Merlin's fever abated somewhat and the rest of the night was mostly uneventful. Arthur took care of Merlin, told him stories from before they met. They covered almost his entire life: funny stories, sad stories, his doubts and desires, everything. He knew that Merlin couldn't hear him, but it felt right to speak to him and fill the silence.

"You were right, we shouldn't have gone hunting. We should have stayed at home. I will never forgive myself for this."

The prince wouldn't admit it, but he was terrified of losing his servant. He held him in his lap, gently stroking his hair, and kept one hand on the boy's chest, reassuring himself that he was, indeed, still alive.

When morning arrived, the rain finally stopped, and the weather cleared up a bit. Arthur took a glance at his sleeping friend and placed him carefully on the ground and covered him with his cloak. After that, he went out to look around. In the morning sunlight he now recognized the area as well despite the changes due to the storm. A few trees had fallen and branches were all over the ground. The ground itself was soaked, muddy puddles everywhere. But the sky was clear and a new day had come.

"Arthur?" he heard a weak call from the cave. He rushed back inside preparing for the worst only to find that Merlin was finally awake.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" asked the prince with a small smile.

"'m fine," murmured the warlock.

"That's good. Get some rest then. We are staying a bit longer here." He thought that the boy was already asleep again but then Merlin spoke. "I told you that we shouldn't have come." Arthur looked down at the now sleeping boy with a sad smile and whispered. "Yes, Merlin. You really told me."

They headed back to Camelot a few days later. Merlin was still not entirely well but at least he could travel. The sickness stubbornly clung to him, but a little rest can cure anything. A couple of days later he was once again cheerfully doing his work beside the prince. And after everything that happened, Arthur vowed to himself that, from now on, he would always listen to his little brother. Or, at least seriously consider his advice and suggestions.