J: Sequel to Learning to breathe again. Third in the GM series.

Light. It was warm, golden and bright. Enveloping him in its embrace, he shifted in his horizontal position, only to be greeted by pain in his horizontal position, burning his every cell from the inside out. Huffing his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to control the tears of pain, taking deep long breaths to calm himself down.

"You're awake." A quiet voice said from the shadows in the corner. He opened his eyes then. Blinking a few times, he took in his surroundings. Thatched roof, wooden support beams, mud walls, wooden bed against his back, thin cotton sheet covering him. Small fire burning slightly from beyond the worn cloth curtain where a girl was standing, looking at him with sparkling eyes. "I was worried about you. You wouldn't wake up, you see." She smiled as the sunlight illuminated her features. "No need to worry." She said softly, noting his sudden stiffness. "I'm not an enemy." She placed a bowl on the table that looked as if it would collapse at any given moment. Sitting down on the bed, she rolled up her sleeves. "Now hold still, yes?"

Her ministrations were quick and precise. The way she handled herself rivalled the skills of Gaius' himself. All the while, she kept her eyes on him, face carefully neutral while he observed her. Her unruly blonde curls were kept back with a dirty brown kerchief. Her eyes, dark green wells, flitted as she managed his dressing. The wound itself wasn't anything as horrific as what he'd seen on the battlefield, though he couldn't help but to hiss as he watch her deft fingers dab herbal poultice on his wound. "Don't worry." She assured him, bandaging him. "You're healing up pretty well. You'll be fine."

Her fingers had been a contrast to her features. While they had been soft and feminine, her fingers and hands were rough, calloused, well-worked hands. Each touch had sent a burst of warmth on his skin. "There." She declared. "All done. Are you hungry?" She asked, closing the lid on her poultice box. "I've made some broth if you are."

"I'm fine, thank you." Arthur started, lifting a hand to his throat. His voice came out all raspy and crackled. The girl merely smiled.

"It's normal. You've been sleeping for a week now." Moving to the rickety table, she poured him a cup of water. "You'll need some time to get your voice back. Drink up! It's not poison you know." She grinned as he sipped tentatively.

Arthur blinked when he discovered he wasn't choking, vomiting, spitting blood or writhing in pain. Taking a deeper drink, he peered over the rim at her. "What's your name?"

Cocking her head slightly, she laughed. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? After all, this is my house and my bed you are currently occupying." She looked at him serenely.

The Camelot prince blinked and said the first name that came to his mind. "Merlin. My name is Merlin."