Title: The Vigil
Author: Surreal44
Disclaimer: Not mine…sigh
Rating: PG
Pairing: Lancelot/Arthur
Summary: Lancelot cares for Arthur.
Author's Notes: Sequel to "First Snow". Thanks to Dea for final read-through!
Feedback: Most appreciated :)
It had been two days since the kiss; two days since Lancelot had pulled Arthur closer to his body, sealing his lips against Arthur's and allowed the commander to feel the longing he'd been holding back for so long. And two days since Arthur had crumpled to the ground on his way back to his room, unconscious and burning once more from fever.
Now Lancelot sat and watched the slow rise and fall of Arthur's chest as he took shallow, uneasy breaths. Arthur had drifted into awareness a few times, but no recognition had shown on his face and he had slid back into delirium not long after.
Arthur frowned in his sleep, shifting restlessly under the blankets piled on his thin frame. He muttered something in Latin and cried out in alarm. Lancelot was beside him instantly, gently holding Arthur down even as the Roman struggled and twisted to free himself from Lancelot's grasp. Lancelot murmured soothing words in Arthur's ear, and finally the man began to calm down. He relaxed in Lancelot's grasp, but Lancelot couldn't bring himself to let go just yet.
"Arthur." The soft word was a desperate plea as Lancelot leaned closer to his friend. Gentle fingers smoothed back sweat-dampened curls, traced a soft path across Arthur's furrowed brow. "Arthur you said you would stay. You gave your word. You have to fight this."
Lancelot bowed his head over the prone body, wishing for the first time since coming to this island that he had someone to pray to. From the moment that Arthur had lost consciousness, the fear that the kiss was nothing more than a product of fever and illness haunted the knight almost as much as the fear of losing Arthur. But now...it didn't matter to him if Arthur remembered the kiss, or if Arthur rejected him. Now all he wanted was for Arthur to open his eyes and to recognize him.
Wearily, Lancelot dragged his chair closer to the bed to continue his vigil.
Hours later, Lancelot woke with a start, uncertain as to what had brought him up from the depths of sleep. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and focused them on his friend, starting at the changes he saw.
Arthur's face was relaxed, head turned toward Lancelot. The flush of fever was gone. For a brief moment Lancelot feared the worst, but then he saw Arthur's chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lancelot reached over to lightly brush his hand across Arthur's cheek to gauge the man's temperature. Still warm. Far too warm, but not burning like he had been earlier.
The gentle touch brought Arthur around, dark lashes fluttering open to reveal fever-bright green eyes. He blinked sleepily at Lancelot and smiled. In spite of the lingering fever, there was clarity in those green depths as Arthur whispered in a hoarse voice, "Lancelot."
The First Knight moved closer to Arthur, settling himself carefully on the bed next to his commander. He was about to speak when he noticed an odd expression on Arthur's face, and Lancelot froze, understanding dawning. He remembered.
"Arthur," Lancelot began, wanting to reassure Arthur that the kiss had changed nothing between them, that he knew it had been a mistake, but the man on the bed interrupted him.
"Lancelot, aren't you going to kiss me?" Arthur demanded. Lancelot stared at him for a moment, unable to believe that Arthur would say something like that. He must still be delirious…
"I can't reach you from here." Arthur pointed out impatiently. Lancelot blinked, still in shock, still uncertain. Arthur sighed at his friend's hesitation. "Do I need to order you?"
The dark-haired knight only took a moment to look into those green eyes to reassure himself once more that Arthur truly wanted this. The certainty and expectation in that single glance was enough to convince Arthur's First Knight.
"Welcome back." Lancelot whispered, and leaned over to gently kiss Arthur on the lips.