Entry: DC06En09

Title: Broth

Theme and/or Prompt/s: Gwen makes Arthur something and Gwen slips into Arthur's bed during the night.

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Gwen

Spoilers: Mentions of events in 3x06

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to Shine and the BBC.

Summary: Gwen smiled and shook her head and Arthur took her hand

Author’s notes: Betaed by rubberglue

Spices, herbs and heat singed Gwen’s nostrils as she stirred the pot.

Good, it’s done, she thought in satisfaction. Gwen took a small earthenware bowl and dipped it into the pot, filling with the murky red broth. She blew on it a few times until the steam it produced was not as intense.

With practiced ease of her occupation, Gwen quickly walked, passing a few sleeping knights and a watchman (Sir Leon nodded his head to her) all the way to a tent. The tent was a tiny makeshift one that was so low that she had to kneel down to get inside. There, under scavenged cloths and furs, laid Arthur. Arthur believed he had no need of a tent or a bed- if his men (and Merlin) were sleeping on a cold ground then so should he. He was outvoted when his coughing fits grew to violent tantrums and he gained a slight fever.

“Guinevere,” Arthur sighed out. His fever had thankfully broken and the coughing lessened but he was still pale and his brow was sheen with sweat.

“Hello. Made you some broth,” Gwen gently thrust the bowl to him.

“Have the others gotten food?” He inquired.

“Merlin made everyone a stew before Gawaine and Elyan left.” Gwen replied, “Now drink your supper before it gets cold.”

“What in this?” Arthur eyed the flecks of yellow, green and black floating in the steamy red liquid.

“Just a little something Gauis taught me to keep the chest warm. Drink it.”

Arthur sighed and downed the broth in one gulp. Instantaneously, his eyes bulged out, his nose furrowed and he made out like he was about to cough again but instead took gasping breaths as if he swallowed fire.

Gwen then produced a water-skin and handed it to Arthur, who quickly emptied it. Surprised that he did not drink cool water, he turned to her with a questioning look.

“Warmed ale,” she explained, “It will help you sleep.”

Arthur groaned and collapsed in the heap of cloth and fur. He then complained, “Merlin and Leon don’t have to deal with this.”

“Merlin and Sir Leon did not run into a ice cave to be trapped all night while still soaking wet,” Gwen reminded him, “But it is done, so let’s concentrate on getting you well enough in time for those friends of Gawaine’s to come and retrieve us. They’ll be here tomorrow, hopefully.”

Seeing the ale taking effect, Gwen tucked Arthur in and brushed his damp golden hair out of his drooping eyes. His eyes then met hers, cold sky blue met warm dark brown and their expressions were as soft as her touch.

“Stay for awhile,” Arthur then asked.

“I still have some work left,” Gwen said, regretting it immediately.

“It can wait. You’re forgetting that more than half of our party is skilled in outdoor living. Even Merlin.”

Gwen smiled and shook her head and Arthur took her hand.

“Please stay,” he said, his face a troubled one and with an illness that was not his cold, “After everything that had happen, I need- I need you here.”

“Alright,” Gwen relented and crawled to his side and laid her head next to his. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep or until Elyan comes back.”

“I’m already sick. I can handle a black eye,” Arthur quipped, wrapped an arm around her and the two curled in together.