Merlin One Shots

Sick

A/N: Crack. Short.

Setting: During series 3

Description: Merlin reveals his magic in the most un-spectacular way possible. Which, really, makes it all the more Merlin.

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

       A virus had spread over Camelot.

       Not the deadly kind, though some of the more... dramatic type claimed they wanted to die instead of this suffering. But the illness itself was nothing more than a terrible cold, one that had overtaken nearly every citizen of Camelot. Everyone was miserable, Gaius being the worst off. Not because he was sick, but because he had to deal with the griping of, well, everyone. Especially Uther.

       "Gaius, I'm telling you, its sorcery!" The king croaked. Well, that was the translated version. Between his sore throat and his plugged nose, it sounded more like a series of muffled groans.

        "Sire, it's nothing more than a common cold." Gaius said exasperatedly.

       "I wab da bam foud!" Gaius raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to figure out what he was saying. 'I want the man found!' was the most likely translation. A sigh came from the physician, and he left the sick king to sulk in silence.

➿➿➿➿➿

       Morgana lay in her bed, a scowl on her face. She had caught this blasted sickness, and because of it, she hadn't even found the will to move out of bed. Morgana couldn't even think properly. That meant no more plotting Uther's downfall, no planning Arthur's demise. A groan escaped her lips as she thought back to when she had tried to get Morgause to help her.

        The high priestess had claimed that there was nothing she could do, and that Morgana would simply have to let the cold take its course. Morgause then said she would return soon, to assist her sister in taking over Camelot.

       The thought of sitting on her throne cheered Morgana up slightly, and she would have smirked at the idea, but her face hurt to much to move it. She scowled once more.

       This sickness was destroying everything she enjoyed.

➿➿➿➿➿

       "Merlin." Arthur groaned, rolling over in his bed. The prince was absolutely miserable, so of course, Merlin was there to suffer with him. The manservant looked up at him through watery eyes, sniffling. "Doesn't Gaius have anything to help me with this?" Arthur demanded. Merlin shook his head, opening his mouth to answer. But all that came out was a sneeze, and at the same time, a cup on Arthur's desk shattered.

      "Uh..." Merlin said, not knowing what to do. Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by a series of rapid sneezes, along with the shattering of every window in the prince's room. A sheepish smile spread across his face as Arthur glared at him. "I can explain?"

      "Merlin," Arthur started, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am too tired to deal with this. So hurry up and leave before you break anything else." Merlin nodded, turning to go. But before he could even reach the door, he sneezed again.

       The wardrobe exploded.

      "Merlin!"