The Fall of the King
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"Arthur!" Merlin says very loudly while shaking his sleeping friend. It had been getting harder and harder to wake him up. Arthur awakes with a start and, for a second, doesn't know where he is until he focuses on the trees and on Merlin's worried face.
They eat a quick breakfast and are on their horses again within the hour. Merlin picks up the pace today, but not too much. He doesn't need Arthur falling off his horse.
At about midday, Arthur starts mumbling something. Merlin turns around in his saddle and slows the horses. Arthur is slumped all the way foreword on his horse, sweating, and pale. Merlin jumps down quickly and reaches his hands up to steady Arthur.
"I can't. Merlin, I can't go on," Arthur barely gets out.
"Okay. We rest for an hour," Merlin drags Arthur off his horse and helps him over to a fallen tree, which Arthur lays against.
Merlin gathers some firewood, places them close to Arthur, and gets out his stone. After multiple attempts, it still doesn't light.
"Why don't you just use magic," it is both a question and a command, and Merlin is surprised that Arthur would allow such a thing.
"Habit, I suppose," Merlin does so and there is an instant fire burning. "Feels strange. Using my powers in front of you."
"Yeah," Arthur replies. Merlin takes Arthur's boots off and places them by the fire to dry, then gets out some stew. There isn't much left, enough for two people to survive on for two days. I don't need much, Merlin thinks.
Merlin feeds Arthur. He can't hold the spoon himself anymore, he's too weak.
"Why are you doing this?" Arthur asks moodily. "Why don't you just leave me? I'm going to die anyway, quit wasting your time."
Merlin feels the sting of Arthur's words like a frozen dagger to his heart. "I have to keep trying. Camelot needs you, Gwen needs you. And also because you're my best friend and I don't want to loose you."
They stay silent for the rest of the time, and after Arthur has eaten, he slips into unconsciousness. Merlin keeps the fire going and stays watch. He hasn't gotten much rest since before the battle, but he can't risk falling asleep. Not while Arthur is like this.
When the sun starts it's descent, Merlin shakes Arthur awake.
"Come on," he says quietly but with urgency in his voice. "We have to keep moving."
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To the Doctor's surprise, he reaches the White Mountains not long after dusk. Not wanting to stop, he continues until midday the next day. The Doctor takes out his sonic screwdriver and points it at the mountain side.
"Right in the middle," he says happily to himself. "That's good, really good. For once I'm making perfect time!"
He warms up a little stew and has a small lunch, wanting to save as much as he can, for as long as he can. Then, the Doctor lays down and sleeps. He likes to call them 'Speedy Sleeps' because he gets a full nights rest in only half an hour.
He mounts his horse again and calls the TARDIS.
"Yes?!" John answers.
"Are you in the maps room?" the Doctor asks quickly.
"Yes, what do you need, Doctor?"
"How far am I from Merlin and Arthur?"
The Doctor hears some muffled noises on the other end, he takes it to be calculations.
"Ahhh I'd say roughly nineteen miles? Give or take?" John says. "Although most of it looks to be forest." John zooms in on the map to see the mountain path more closely. "The easiest way looks be to the mountain pass. Just follow along the edge of the mountain like you're doing, the forest is thinnest there."
"Thank you," says the Doctor, about to hang up but then hurriedly orders, "Take care of my TARDIS!"
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Arthur gets tired and weary again, too soon for Merlin's liking. They stop again only a few hours after dark.
Arthur doesn't even wait for supper, he just passes out while sitting up. Merlin shifts him so he's in a lying position, and puts a folded up robe under his head. That's when Merlin notices that Arthur is feverish.
Merlin fetches a bucket of water from a not-so-near stream and tares a strip of cloth off of an extra shirt. He gets the cloth damp and places it on Arthur's forehead. Merlin goes back to the stream because he had seen some Andrographis, an herb to help reduce fever, growing near there.
When he gets back to Arthur with the herbs, he grinds them up to release the juices, and boils some water. Merlin cuts more off of the shirt and wraps the leaves and flower petals in it, and places it in the boiling water. To enhance it, he says a spell in the language of the Druids. It starts to bubble and fizz, but soon dies down.
Once it's finished, although he wants Arthur to get rest, he wakes him up anyway.
"Arthur, wake up," Merlin says softly. "I've got something you need to drink. It will help with your fever."
Arthur sleepily raises his arm to hold the bottom of the cup while he sips it slowly. "It tastes wonderful," he admits, "but it's extremely hot."
Arthur drinks two cups of the tea, and then goes back to sleeping. Merlin wets the rag again and places it back on Arthur's head. Already, the herb is doing it's job. Arthur's fever has gone down noticeably.
Merlin adds more wood to the fire and sits against a tree opposite Arthur's sleeping body and keeps watch.
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"That was incredible," Sherlock says into John's neck. "You didn't sound out of breath in the slightest. Didn't make a sound the entire time while talking to the Doctor. Most guys don't have the control that you do whilst being given a blow job."
"Just shut up, Sherlock, and let's get back to business," John pulls Sherlock up and kisses him to silence him. John had been having a hard time talking to the Doctor with Sherlock's beautiful lips wrapped around him. He was sure that the Doctor had heard him pleading with Sherlock to stop just for a minute even though he had had his hand over the speaker. John was even more sure that the Doctor had to have suspected something because John almost moaned, but caught it before it left his mouth.
They really hadn't had much to do lately besides watch the map and have sex. A lot of sex. And it was amazing. Like sex with Sherlock is never not amazing, John thinks.
John releases Sherlock's body from its too tight purple shirt, and a few buttons fly off. Sherlock always wears purple when he's craving a certain blogger. John let's it drop to the floor as Sherlock backs John up to one of the tables. John leans over it, lips still locked with Sherlock's as hands find his hips.
Sherlock breaks the kiss, so John kicks off his trousers and pants the rest of the way while Sherlock unfastens his trousers to relieve his bulge. Sherlock attaches himself to John's lips again while he rubs them both together.
John lets out gasp and Sherlock returns to the sweet spot his neck, sucking so hard John knows he'll have a bruise there for days.
"Oh God, Sherlock," John pants, his voice gruff. He has one hand in Sherlock's hair and one on his back. He tugs on those luscious locks and receives a groan from his detective, along with a harsher grind. John doesn't hold it back, he moans loudly and starts mumbling all sorts of nonsense.
"John, you're so beautiful like this," Sherlock's voice is even deeper than John could ever imagine. "All fragile and a mumbling mess."
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Against his own wishes, Merlin had slept late into the night and wasn't awakened until the sun was almost directly overhead.
"Great," Merlin scolds himself. "Just great. Arthur is dying and I'm still useless."
He doesn't even bother to neatly pack up his things, he just puts them on the horse and rides. Merlin tries to think of a spell for a horse's stamina, or something of the like. He can't think of one for a horse, but he knows one that gives energy to humans.
Merlin decides to try it. He kicks his horse to go faster and it takes off at top speed with a jolt. Huh, should've tried this a lot sooner, Merlin thinks to himself, glad that it worked.
After what Merlin believes to be two hours, the horse suddenly stops dead in his tracks, almost throwing Merlin from the saddle.
"What the hell was that??" Merlin yells at the horse. The horse pants in return. "You need a rest," Merlin realizes and gets down. "I need to wrack my brain for a stamina spell."
Merlin lets the horse rest for an hour before he starts again. To give the horse a little more rest, Merlin leads him for another two hours. He isn't worried about time because the spell he'd used had almost gotten them to the middle of the white mountains, to the secret path he remembers. He can't think of a stamina spell, so he just gets on his horse and rides slower now.
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Arthur awakes feeling much better. Not only did that drink help with the fever, it had also helped with the pain. Or perhaps I'm just starting to go numb, he thinks to himself.
Merlin had already packed everything away. All that is left to do is douse the flames and get Arthur onto his horse. It's a harder task than it was before. Arthur can't really feel his own body, so he isn't much help to the struggling Merlin.
"I know I've made fun of you for being fat before," Merlin grunts while trying to push Arthur up onto the horse, "but this is just ridiculous."
"I'm sorry, Merlin," Arthur says softly. Once he's finally mounted and Merlin is giving him the reigns, Arthur admits in a whisper, "Merlin. My body is numb. I can hardly feel a thing."
Merlin, who was checking to make sure the saddle is tightly secured, stops and looks up at Arthur. Merlin searches in his head for side effects of the Andrographis herb, but doesn't find any. Arthur's body is starting to shut down. What if he has too much internal bleeding? What if he's paralyzed? Merlin worries.
"We'll go slower so you don't fall off your horse then," Merlin says. "We don't have far to go."
To Merlin's disappointment, the forest had started to thicken, making it difficult for two horses to ride through. He dismounts and transfers their remaining supplies onto Arthur's horse. Merlin magically puts a map and an order into the horse's head to make its way back to Camelot, or the closest village.
Merlin leads Arthur on his horse for a few more hours, using Excalibur to help clear more of a path, but the woods are against them and Merlin does the same to Arthur's horse as he had done to his own. Merlin puts the half-full bag of food over his shoulder and ties a blanket to it. He puts Excalibur through his belt loop, then helps Arthur up from the ground to continue.
Merlin knows they aren't far. Half a days walk, maybe. Arthur is getting heavier and heavier with each stride, his body finally failing him.
"Merlin, I can't. I can't go on. Please," Arthur begs in a whisper.
Merlin, half dragging him, doesn't stop. There's a clearing just ahead and he's determined to reach it.
"Arthur we don't have far to go, just hold on a little longer," Merlin pleads. Just one more step, just one more.
They reach the clearing. Just two more steps . . . three . . . Arthur can't fight it anymore, he doesn't have enough energy to continue, he can barely keep his eyes open.
Beneath the crush of Arthur's weigh, Merlin falls to the ground with Arthur on top of him.
"No!" Merlin says through gritted teeth, struggling to rise again. "Arthur, please . . ."
Arthur puts his hand over Merlin's which is covering his chest, "All your magic Merlin . . . you can't save me." Merlin knows it isn't an accusation, but it tears his heart in two anyway. He must save Arthur. It is his destiny.
Merlin shifts so Arthur's head lays in his lap. He puts an arm under Arthur's head for support and without thinking tangles his fingers into that beautiful blond hair.
"Merlin," Arthur struggles with speech. "Everything you've done. I know now. For me, for Camelot, for the kingdom you helped me build." He's trying so hard to be brave, for Merlin, to get out this one last thing that he needs to say. Because he can feel it. Arthur feels himself slipping away, and he has to get these words out. "There's something I need to say, something I've never said to you before." He uses what little energy he has to shift his head and lift his arm to grab onto the back of Merlin's neck, to comb his fingers through the dark hair and ever so slightly pull it down. Arthur puts every ounce of compassion into his last words to the man he loves and has always loved, "Thank you."
With the final bit of energy he feels within him, he tugs down just a little harder, and thankfully Merlin understands, because he feels a light brush of lips against his own, which have gone partially numb. Just as soon as they were there, they disappear and are replaced by something cold. A bottle. Liquid pours down Arthur's throat and he feels it travel all the way down. Arthur starts to feel strange, his breathing slows, and his eyes shut.
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First off - IM SO SORRY FOR WHERE I LEFT THIS I REALLY AM!!!!! Believe me it's soooo emotional to write. Sorry this is short, just thought I should post since I haven't in a long time. School is starting up again so idk when I'll be able to write but I'll try to squeeze in some time :) hope you're enjoying! If you are I'd LOVE a comment or a vote!