CHAPTER 9

Lancelot thought. He thought, and he thought some more. Chase after the woman he loved, the woman who meant the world to him, the woman he couldn't lose, even if he would never have her love, or go to the origin of the shout to help. He considered each possible outcome of each option and still had no idea what to do. He didn't decide until he realized that the voice that had shouted had been from Gwaine. Gwaine was back and needed Blair's help. But Blair wasn't here. And she wouldn't be until Lancelot rescued her, but maybe he could still help.

He nudged Blair's horse forward, and took off towards the river.

Lancelot didn't know what he was expecting, but this was not it. First thing, Lancelot had always thought Gwaine could never be distraught. He figured that the Knight would always be making jokes to lighten the mood. But for the first time, Lancelot saw a worried, puffy eyed man leaning over a small, bloody body. Second thing, Merlin. Merlin was there. Of all the people Gwaine could have brought here, it had to be Merlin. Merlin had saved him from Morgana and set him on a path to a peaceful afterlife. It would crush Merlin to know that Morgana had tortured him. Third, Lancelot recognized that small figure that Gwaine was leaning over. He inhaled sharply. It was Allard. Lancelot suddenly forgot about Merlin's presence. He leaped off the horse and ran to Allard's side.

Instantly he saw the severity of the situation. Lancelot didn't know what in the world Allard had done, but he knew that he needed help.

Thinking fast, he ran to the saddle bag Blair kept with her tack. He knew that Blair always had bandages and healing herbs, though Lancelot had no idea how to use them.

He unwrapped the previous bandages on Allard's wounds, now seeing the true wounds and not just the blood. He rewrapped the wounds, but his hands were shaking. He felt adrenaline coursing though his veins. Allard couldn't die.

Lancelot took the herbs and crushed them into a frothy paste.

He flashed back to the river months ago when Allard had been wounded. Blair hadn't even enchanted anything to heal Allard. If she had, it'd had been silently, which didn't help Lancelot. He went back further into his memories, to the fuzzy part of his recovery from Morgana's torture. The memories had been slowly coming back to him over the months, as time went on and Blair told him more and more of how she healed him. Blair had tried to teach him some basic healing magic, so if he found himself in a situation without her, he'd be able to do something, but Lancelot had been horrible with magic and Blair had soon given up.

Still, he remembered the spell and how to perform it, even though he'd never succeeded at pulling off the spell. The spell was basic, easy to pull of once you get a hang of it (or at least that's what Blair said). Lancelot wasn't going to try anything too difficult, even though he remembered Blair reciting a difficult healing spell at one point to save a severely injured fawn, and could also recite it if he could perform magic in the first place.

Lancelot placed his hands centimeters above Allard's body and took a deep breath. Blair had always said that the calmer you are, the better the magic. Blair had once told him to think of a calming moment in his life. A centering point. She said to focus on that and hone the magic.

Lancelot closed his eyes and raced through his memories, attempting to find something as his center. His time at Camelot? No. How about his second death, knowing that he would be safe? Nope. That awkward almost-kiss between him and Blair? Haha, no. Then he found it. Blair. Everyday he would look into the blue depths of her mismatched eyes and feel the warmth that Blair radiated with her smile. Every morning, Lancelot would wake up to find Blair already cooking breakfast for them. And in the evening, he would return with that day's catch and Blair would prepare it, making the meat smell and taste delicious with her herbs. And then past dark, on the rare occasions when Blair lit multiple candles and they played cards. His center, his calming point, was when he was with Blair.

He opened his eyes and recited the spell.

"Ge hailige," he said.

Nothing.

He tried again, this time forcing all of his memories of his time with Blair into it. This time, he added something else. His love. Blair was the love of his life, and everyday Lancelot wanted to tell her, he wanted to kiss her and hold her tight in his arms. If anything he wanted her back. Blair should be the one doing this magic, not him, and that knowledge, plus his pain of not knowing if she was okay of not, was killing him.

"Ge hailige!" He enchanted, his voice raised.

At first, nothing happened, and then a swirl of magic took the wounds and sealed them, though not well.

Lancelot let out a shaky breath and slumped over, feeling the effects of the spell.

It took a moment for Lancelot to raise his head, and when he did, Gwaine and Merlin were staring at him. Their reactions were expectable.

Gwaine had stared at him and said, "You too?!"

Merlin, on the other hand, stepped back and breathed his name. "Lancelot?" And of course that was followed with "You have magic?"

Lancelot didn't know how to respond. He didn't have magic really, he just remembered what Blair had taught him. Was that really considered magic?

Whatever it was considered, Lancelot decided to avoid the question altogether.

"Hi, Merlin. Now, what happened to Allard? Gwaine, I trusted you to keep him safe and now you bring me him mostly dead. I'm starting to wonder if Blair and I need to take care of him because clearly you are incapable of doing so, just like you were incapable of giving Blair the love she deserves."

Oops.

The words just kinda tumbled out, and the second they were out of Lancelot's mouth, he regretted them. Gwaine had tried, he really had, and Lancelot knew that, he was just so mad that Gwaine had left Blair like he did. Just, "Hey, I can't get my head around you having magic, so goodbye." That angered Lancelot to no end. Blair deserved better. And he could give her better. Lancelot was willing to give her everything, but of course he was too scared.

Lancelot watched with vague satisfaction that he knew he shouldn't have as Gwaine's mouth opened and closed multiple times but no sound came out.

Also, Merlin's face was pricelessly confused.

Lancelot fumbled for words. "Oh god, I am so sorry Gwaine, I didn't mean that, just forget I ever said anything please."

It took a few moments but Gwaine eventually responded. "Lancelot, you're right. I shouldn't have just left Blair like I did, and everyday I regret it. But Blair... she's a one chance kind of woman, and I'm afraid that I wasted my chance with her. But you... you can give her what she deserves because you're right, she deserves better than me. You can give her that."

And now it was Lancelot's turn to be absolutely speechless.

The only words he could form were, "Blair doesn't feel anything for me, Gwaine."

"Are you sure? Because when you left, that was the only time Blair has cried. I didn't know what she was crying about then, but when I saw the way you two stood together, when you were still dripping wet from almost drowning in the river, I knew. I knew the second I saw your hands on her hips and you kissing her forehead. Lancelot, I was there for most of that conversation because I didn't trust you to not... do something." He paused. His face growing soft. "I guess what I'm trying to say here is that Blair may have loved me, but she never cared for me the way she does for you."

Now Lancelot had no words at all. His mind kept running over what Gwaine had just said, trying to make sense of it.

Blair likes me? She cares for me? She cried when I left? What?

The thoughts crowded his head until he could no longer think straight. Luckily, Merlin saved him from the silence.

"Someone tell me what's going on because last I checked, Lancelot, you were dead. Oh and since when did you both love Blair?"

Lancelot knew how to answer that.

"Last I checked, Merlin, Morgana was trying to take over Camelot and brought me back to life for a second time so she could blame her failure on me."

He didn't mean to be so cross with his old friend, but apparently today was not his day for words.

"Oh, Lancelot I–" Merlin began to speak and apologize but Lancelot tuned him out. Right now, Merlin's fussing was the exact opposite of what he wanted to listen to. So instead he looked down at Allard, who was still not looking so good.

"Gwaine come on, we have to get him somewhere else." Lancelot said.

Gwaine nodded and Merlin looked like he was in the middle of saying something and Lancelot had interrupted, which was probably exactly what happened.

Lancelot, Gwaine, and Merlin all picked up Allard's limp form and put him over the horse's back. Lancelot climbed on the horse and bounded off towards the house while Gwaine and Merlin followed on foot.

Random intervention by the author: GUYS IM WATCHING DOCTOR WHO AND COLIN MORGAN JUST SHOWED UP WHAT

When they reached Blair's house, Gwaine was confused, and with good reason. The cloaking spell was on the small house so as far a Gwaine knew, all that was there was a small field.

Lancelot approached the invisible house to recite the spell.

This was the one spell Blair had spent forever teaching him. It's powerful magic, to cloak a building, so it had taken Lancelot months to master, but Blair had insisted that he know how to unveil the house. As he approached he whispered the spell.

Blair had told him that the sound of spells should reflect what the spell is doing. For instance, when adding a camouflage spell, one should whisper since the spell is one that hides things and if you are hiding something, you probably don't want to be shouting the spell at the top of your lungs. If performing a healing spell, the sorcerer should have a clear and strong voice. That kind of voice increases the healing magic because you are giving some of your strength into that spell and the patient needs that strength. If reciting a type of musical spell the caster should have a musical tone. If casting a stunning spell the voice should be loud, powerful, and commanding. Each voice should fit the purpose of the spell. Blair had said that few sorcerers knew this, and that was why her magic was more powerful than most.

The house unveiled, which caused Gwaine's eyes to open wide in disbelief.

Lancelot chuckled.

Merlin, though, didn't seem all that surprised, which confused Lancelot.

Lancelot dismounted and half picked up, half dragged Allard off the mount and carried him over his shoulder into the house.

Lancelot was about to lay Allard down on the floor before he realized that the young man would need a pad of some sort.

"Merlin, can you get that rolled up rug over there? It's the one in the corner."

Merlin walked over and unrolled it.

"Um... Lancelot? Why is it covered in dried blood and green stuff?" Merlin asked.

"Merlin, do you really think that I endured Morgana's torture and came out with my life?" Lancelot replied crossly. Allard was starting to get heavy.

"Lancelot..." Merlin said, his voice suddenly worried and softer.

"Merlin..." Lancelot replied in the exact same tone. Yes, Lancelot had resorted to mocking Merlin now.

Merlin laid the rug down on the floor and Lancelot laid Allard down gently on it.

"Lancelot, where's Blair?" Gwaine asked, finally getting over the whole invisible house thing.

"Blair's not... here," Lancelot said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked cautiously.

Lancelot didn't want to answer. He turned his vision to the wall instead.

The walls of Blair's house were amazing. She had jars of herbs on shelves along one wall. Each herb had a purpose. Some were for seasoning food, the others for magic. Each ceramic jar was labeled, and that was a good thing because Blair had a lot of jars. The terra-cotta jar painted with flowers had a label that said "rosemary". The jar with an intracite design painted on had a label that read "poppy seeds". Another with purple and blue swirls said "rabbits ear". Lancelot could easily spend hours just going through all of Blair's jars. The best part about the wall of jars was that all the patterns on the jars made one huge pattern on the wall. The pattern wasn't really a pattern though– it looked like one at first glance– until you realize that the strategically placed jars make a colorful map of Camelot and the surrounding area.

"Lancelot!"

Gwaine's shout snapped him away from the jars. He was surprised to turn and see not only Gwaine looking mad at him, but Merlin too.

Merlin never gets mad, Lancelot thought.

"What?" Lancelot replied, his tone going deep with worry.

"Where's Blair? You said that she's not here, what did you mean?" Gwaine said, his voice also sounding worried.

"Blair was... taken."

Somehow, the air in the room got colder and stiffer than it already had been.

"Lancelot, just give us a straight answer. What do you mean by taken?" Merlin asked.

"I mean taken as in some clotpole knocked her out and dragged her away," Lancelot said, his voice growing sour in anger. When he found Blair he was going to punch that guy in the face so hard that he'd be seeing double for weeks.

Lancelot never thought to expect Gwaine's reaction to Blair's current situation. Lancelot definitely should have thought about that. But he didn't, so he rocked up off his heels in surprise when Gwaine's face went hard and he yelled "WHAT!"

Merlin's face read that he was offended, but then again, Lancelot was horrible with reading emotions, that was more Blair's thing.

Then, Allard started convulsing, his body involuntary thrashing about on his makeshift bed.

For a moment, Lancelot stood there staring at Allard's convulsing form, frozen. He stood there until Merlin yelled at him.

"Lancelot! What do we do?"

"I don't know! Blair taught me some basic magic, just to get by, but this," he said violently, gesturing towards Allard. "I- I don't know..."

He took a deep breath and ran through everything Blair had taught him about healing. He remembered spells and herbs that stop bleeding, how to keep a man's heart beating, but spontaneous convulsions... wait. There was a brief lesson a while ago on how to stop these.

"Okay... get him away from the wall. Get him away from anything he can hit." He said, attempting to make his voice commanding.

Merlin and Gwaine nodded and moved to pick up Allard's shaking form.

"Be careful! If you hold him too tight, the muscule convulsions could cause him to dislocate something! Yeah... bring him here."

Gwaine and Merlin made sure to be careful with Allard and set him down on the floor where Lancelot had told them to.

Lancelot then rolled Allard onto his side and felt his breath to make sure Allard was still breathing. He was, but it was shallow.

Blair had said something about the causes of the convulsions. Poison was the main one, but Lancelot couldn't figure out how Allard could get poisoned. The other cause were... brain illness, electric shock, severe heart problems, head injury... oh.

"Gwaine, did Allard ever hit his head?"

"Yeah, why?" Gwaine said, his voice concerned.

"Head injury is a cause for seizures. How hard did he hit his head?" Lancelot responded.

"Oh, well pretty hard. When the bird hit him he fell backwards and his head hit a rock." Gwaine replied, his voice growing lower as he realized the severity of the situation.

Lancelot took a deep breath and tried to remember what herbs were best for seizures related to head injuries. Blue Vervian and False Pepper. Those were the herbs he needed to best treat Allard.

Lancelot ran to the herb jars and looked up and down for the jar labeled Blue Vervian. When he found the jar, there was only one leaf inside.

I guess Blue Vervian is rare, he thought.

He grabbed the leaf and then began his search for the jar labeled False Pepper.

Apparently, False Pepper is also rare. Inside a red and green jar, Lancelot found a few leaves and a small piece of bark.

He then grabbed the bowl with the last bit of water they had. He ripped the leaves apart, crushed the bark, and put the pieces into the water. Next, he turned to Merlin, who was leaning over Allard's now relatively calm form. Gwaine was standing a few feet away with his mouth and eyes wide open.

"Merlin, I need you to heat this water up for me. Also, what did you do?"

"I recited a sleeping incantation. I may be no good with healing, but I can make people sleep." Merlin said with a playful smile.

"You too! I give up. Everyone. Knows. Magic. Next thing I know, Arthur is going to grow wings and become a dragon. Where's my magic? I want magic too." Gwaine fumed, sounding absolutely done, but also playful.

Lancelot and Merlin chuckled at Gwaine's reaction. Lancelot figured that Merlin wasn't expecting this kind of reaction from Gwaine, but to be honest, Gwaine was exactly the kind of person to say something like that.

Lancelot acknowledged Merlin and soon the water became boiling hot at the sound of Merlin's spell.

"One last thing. Could you say this spell to enchant the water Þu fornimest adl fram guman? I learned the words, but I'm actually pretty terrible with spells and that healing magic drained me."

Merlin nodded in understandment and cast the spell. The boiling water erupted into purple smoke.

"Woah," he said at the same time as Gwaine. Blair had told him the spell to enchant herbs but she'd never told him that purple smoke erupted from concoction. Luckily, the smoke soon faded away and Lancelot found a creamy, violet liquid inside the bowl.

Cautiously, as to not spill any, he took the bowl and spooned a small amount into Allard's mouth.

Immediately, Allard's muscles relaxed and color returned to his face.

All the tension in the air faded away. Lancelot had saved Allard–well kinda, Lancelot still had no idea how to fix the giant holes in Allard's abdomen. Allard needed Blair's care.

Speaking of Blair, he thought, I still need to go save her. Only the fairies of Avalon know what happened to her.

"Merlin, Gwaine," he said, speaking to them both, "I'm leaving to go find Blair. Stay here, keep Allard safe and preferably alive, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Merlin nodded. Gwaine protested. Typical.

"I'm coming with you," Gwaine said.

Lancelot laughed and said "Gwaine, think for a second. Merlin may be capable of many incredible things, but he needs you to hunt and get water from the well because unless you have magical healing powers then I want to see you try and take care of Allard. Merlin can't do those things because he'll be to busy making sure Allard doesn't have another seizure. Okay? You take care of Merlin, Merlin takes care of Allard."

Gwaine clearly wanted to protest again, but he saw the reason behind what Lancelot had said. Gwaine nodded and sat down next to Allard.

Lancelot smiled and nodded to Merlin.

"Keep him alive, Merlin."

And with that, he went outside and mounted Blair's horse and rode off.

Three days passed and he was still following the old hoof prints from the kidnapper's mount. Lancelot knew he couldn't have been to far behind the kidnapper. He was almost getting hopeful that he would save Blair before anything to terrible could happen to her. He was hopeful until he saw the blood stains on the ground near the tracks. Hopeful until he heard the scream.

I like my cliffhangers okay? I know you guys probably hate them but they're just

SO much fun to write. That little intervention about DW? Sorry about that, I wasn't even aware that it was there until I read over this chapter... I have no regrets actually because it gave me a reason to rewatch Doctor Who and I'm already on Season 5... what can I say? See ya around and once again, thx to the previously mentioned reader.