Episode: The Disir
Category: Gen
Rating/Warnings: K
Her heart was thudding like a blacksmith's hammer as she slipped through the palace corridors, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts as she realized she didn't have the faintest clue where she was going. But then by instinct, or perhaps out of sheer dumb luck, she looked up to see the sign that pointed to the physician's quarters.
Emrys was away with the king and the Court Physician was out – she'd seen him herself, looking exhausted and harried as he'd rushed around tending to a small outbreak of sweating sickness in the lower town. Of course, none of the victims were truly ill; she'd made sure they'd only display a few of the most benign symptoms, with no risk to their health or safety. They'd be fully recovered within the hour.
Precious little time, but it would have to be enough. The little boy she'd loved like a brother was a man grown now, suffering from a terrible wound that would surely kill him without the intervention of magic. The Sight had shown her that much, though how the injury had been inflicted, she did not know… nor could she begin to imagine why Emrys had done nothing to help him.
She sucked in a sharp breath as she approached the bed, surprised at how innocent and helpless Mordred looked as he lay there unconscious. Surely Emrys didn't believe that nonsense about Mordred being destined to kill Arthur? Rubbish. Not only had rumors spread far and wide as to how much the young knight loved his king, how he served him faithfully at every turn, she'd known Mordred since they'd been children. There was no hatred in his heart, no wish to cause harm unless he was given no other choice. No, she simply refused to believe he'd ever do something like that… not without good reason.
Taking his hand, ice cold and clammy, she held it to her breast as she whispered the healing words. Her magic was powerful, unusually so, but she wasn't certain it was working until his skin began to grow warmer, the slightest bit of color creeping back into his pallid face. He let out a soft moan, as if he were in pain, but then at long last, his body relaxed. His breathing became more steady then, the faintest trace of a smile touching his lips as his sorcery induced unconsciousness transformed into a deep, restful sleep.
How much she wanted to stay there with him, to be at his side when he awoke so she might be reunited with the cherished friend she hadn't seen in nearly a decade. But of course, that wasn't possible. Even if King Arthur wasn't quite the tyrant his father had been, she had a feeling that he still wouldn't take too kindly to an unknown Druid lurking about the palace.
And so she leaned over Mordred, pressing a gentle kiss to both cheeks and then his forehead before rising to her feet. "Rest well, my friend," she said with a wistful sigh. "I hope we meet again someday."
