Chapter 3: It Begins
Arthur stood near the window staring down at the courtyard, still full of activity. His gaze followed one particular person, his manservant, as he scurried towards the physician's chamber. He exhaled slowly as he ran his hand across his face.
Stepping away from the window, he undid the top of his shirt; it was suddenly a little too tight. He paced his room, unable to stay still for a second. The meeting had been the only urgent thing on his agenda for the day, he had missed the knights training, and the letter he was expecting wasn't due till tomorrow at the earliest.
He heard footsteps outside his door, causing him to pause for a moment and stare as if waiting for someone to step inside. The footsteps got distant and he continued his pacing once more. Again he ran his hand across his face and through his hair, ruffling it as he went.
He was nervous, impatient, and edgy, but he didn't know why. The meeting had upset him, but he would be one step closer to solving the issues when his letter arrived. Gwaine had frustrated him to no end at the tavern and that still lingered on his mind, but it couldn't be the reason for his agitated state. Could it?
Merlin had been late, but he was soon to get his punishment when he returned. He planned to make his servant as miserable as he could. It wouldn't be called payback for nothing if he didn't get to torture his unsuspecting manservant. The thought brought a smile to his face as he moved to his desk.
He felt warm and his clothes seemed heavy and thick against his body. Sweat started to form on his forehead as he stared at the door again. Could his current condition been caused by the tingle he had felt earlier when he had touched Merlin's hand? He had touched Merlin before, but he had never felt such a sensation as he had moments ago.
He shook his head and blamed it on the alcohol. It was still quite early for wine and the heat must've added to his lightheadedness. Yes, all he needed was to freshen up and he would be back to his old self again. Parchments and scrolls were scattered all over the top of his desk. He took a seat and started to rummage through them, trying to find something to distract him from the heat rising from the pit of his stomach.
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Merlin entered Gaius' chamber with a heavy sign. Gaius turned from his table and stared at the young warlock. Seeing the blood on Merlin's hand he moved towards him. "What in blazes happened?" he asked in shock. The cut looked far worse than it was, but Gaius didn't know it at first glance.
After inspecting the wound for a few seconds, he let go of Merlin's hand and moved to grab a cloth to wipe the blood away. "I dropped a pitcher and cut myself when I was trying to pick it up." Merlin explained with a bit of embarrassment. He really was clumsy.
Gaius cleaned the wound and applied slight pressure to stop the bleeding. He then applied some ointment and bandaged it up. Gaius returned to his table, but not before giving Merlin a worried look. "That should do it just don't add too much pressure to it. Also, don't go breaking any more pitchers will you. " He said as he corked a vile and put it with the rest sitting on the side of his work bench.
"Thanks Gaius, I really should get back to royal prat - I mean Arthur." And he turned to exit the room. Gaius stopped him and pointed to a few small bottles sitting on the table closest to the door. "Can you deliver those for me; I am still halfway through the medicines I have to make for today's run."
"Sure Gaius," shrugged Merlin as he smiled at his friend and grabbed the medicines. He left without another word. The royal prat would just have to wait a little longer. It wasn't like he was in a rush to start the endless chores Arthur would give him for being late anyways.
