A/N: Thank you SnidgetHex, Hodophile-Sandhiller, Buckhunter, GuestM, Guest, and pallysAramisRios for reviewing!
Chapter 14
Lancelot sat on the edge of his bed, posture rigid with tension as Gaius, Merlin, and Gwen stood around him. He had agreed to let Merlin try some healing spells on his shoulder where the deep scarring affected his range of movement, but he couldn't stop the visceral fear he felt over it. Gwen sat down beside him and grasped his hand in encouragement. Merlin stepped up to his other side, holding his hands up where Lancelot could see them and watching carefully for any sign of him calling this off.
Lancelot clenched his jaw and gave Merlin a jerky nod to go ahead.
Merlin gently placed his hands on both sides of Lancelot's shoulder. Lancelot heard the words of a spell, felt the flood of magic coursing into his body, and he couldn't help but flinch.
Gwen tightened her grasp on his hand and leaned in to speak in his ear. "I've always thought Merlin's magic felt like sunlight through the window pane on a warm summer's day. That permeating warmth that makes you want to lie down and just sleep in it. Sometimes I even smell wildflowers. But most of all, it feels like Merlin: pure, kind, bright like the way he smiles."
Lancelot forced himself to take a shuddering breath. He vaguely noticed Merlin blushing at Gwen's words, and he seemed to be taking his dear sweet time with this spell. Lancelot's muscles clenched up again; he didn't know how much longer he could take this. But then he gradually began to realize that was the difference—Sagra's healing was always fast and brutal, congealing flesh back together with little regard to the damage underneath. But right now Lancelot could feel Merlin's magic gently seeping into his knotted muscles and soothing away the gnarled pieces. It did feel warm and calm.
Then he finally finished and stepped back. Gaius gave Lancelot a moment to breathe before he switched places with Merlin and took hold of Lancelot's arm to put it through some rotations.
Lancelot gasped when he raised it above his ear.
"That's much better," Gaius commented, lowering the limb back down. He then palpated the keloid scarring in the back. "Hm, yes, it doesn't feel as thick. How do you feel?"
Lancelot swallowed thickly. "Alright." He looked at Merlin hesitantly. "Will- will you be able to fully heal it?"
"In stages, possibly," he replied. "I'm willing to try."
Lancelot nodded. Then so was he. He looked at the three of them. "Thank you."
Gwen smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.
.o.0.o.
Gwaine picked up his bishop and moved it across the chessboard. Percival shifted his attention to Lancelot, waiting to see what his next move would be. Lancelot studied the layout for a moment, then picked up a pawn to move forward into the bishop's path, a sacrificial move. He froze though as his thoughts abruptly derailed, and he found himself staring at the piece in his hand.
"Well?" Gwaine prompted. "You going to make a move or what?"
Lancelot faltered. He could brush it off, move the pawn, but something gave him pause. He swallowed. "We were all pawns," he said quietly. "Sacrifices, but never allowed to die."
Gwaine and Percival exchanged a look.
"They were the ones who were inhuman," Gwaine replied.
"We were forced to be inhuman as well," Lancelot said. "We weren't allowed to kill but we were expected to make it as bloody as possible. And if we didn't put on a good show…we became fodder for the beasts."
Neither Gwaine nor Percival said anything; they both knew that already.
But Lancelot found that once he let the words out, they just kept coming.
"I tried a few times not to give in to their game, but after…" He dropped his gaze in shame. "Inflicting violence on others was the only way to ensure you suffered the least."
"You can't blame yourself for that," Percival interjected. "They made the rules and you had no choice but to follow them."
"They took everything that I was," Lancelot said, voice breaking. "As a knight and as a man, and they twisted it into something perverse."
"They didn't corrupt everything," Gwaine put in. "And I know killing that boy—Tolu?—was horrific, but you were the only one willing to spare him further torment, at great cost to yourself. Because you were punished afterward, yeah?"
Lancelot nodded.
"How?" Percival asked gently.
Lancelot took in a shuddering breath. He hadn't spoken of this, and to recall it now made his stomach cramp. "I was strung up and tortured for five days," he admitted in a low voice. "That was when…that was the first time Sagra gave me the drugged potion. I must have been on the brink of death, and they wanted me back in the cage the next day."
There was silence for a long moment, then Gwaine started speaking.
"I was in a slave fighting ring once. Shortly before we met, in fact. So I know that being forced to fight for someone else's pleasure isn't about being a knight or being honorable. It's about survival. And I know what you went through was far worse, but that's the part you need to remember—you did what you had to in order to survive. And nothing that you did in that hellhole casts shame on you."
Hot moisture pricked at Lancelot's eyes, but he managed a jerky nod. "Sometimes it feels like surviving is the harder part," he admitted.
"I felt the same after my village was massacred," Percival put in. "I know you felt that too, when you went through the same. We were children, suddenly bereft and alone, with more chances to die than to live."
Lancelot nodded.
"Back then I never would have imagined becoming a knight, of finding a family again." Percival smiled. "But I did. We did. And what happened can't take that away from you."
Lancelot drew in another shaky breath. That had been what he'd clung to in that cage, memories of this brotherhood, his found family.
He set the pawn on the square.
.o.0.o.
After a few healing sessions with Merlin, Lancelot was able to walk for greater distances without his muscles seizing up. His legs still ached, but it was an improvement. He finally got to go outside on his own power, with Elyan and Leon accompanying him, of course. Those first steps out onto the landing into the sun felt like breaking through a wall of glass Lancelot had been trapped behind for months. But even the walls of the courtyard were suddenly too confining, so he asked if they could go out beyond the citadel. Elyan and Leon shared a look at that, and Lancelot knew they were just concerned about him overdoing it.
"Just right outside," he said.
They consented and flanked him as he made his way across the cobblestones. His legs were holding up.
Lancelot veered toward the horse corral and sat down on a patch of grass in the sun and simply basked in the feel of the warm breeze through his hair. He watched the horses in the paddock, grazing mostly. A few of the younger ones were prone to fits of frolicking. Lancelot couldn't help but think that if one of them had been as broken as he was, it would have been put down. But he wasn't an animal, no matter how much Garerrock and his men had treated him as one.
Lancelot hadn't thought about ending his life since that moment in Arthur's chambers, though he also wasn't quite at the place where he valued the fact that he was still alive. But his friends had put so much effort into caring for him, he thought he owed it to them to make sure their efforts didn't go to waste. It was enough of a reason for now.
"I'd like to find Tolu's family," Lancelot said abruptly, breaking the tranquility of the moment. "Tell them what happened to him. They deserve to know."
Leon nodded. "I'll look into it."
Lancelot inclined his head in gratitude.
The sound of swords clanging from the training field pealed through the air. Lancelot stiffened and jerked his gaze that direction, then quickly looked away to compose himself.
"Do you want to go back inside?" Elyan asked.
Lancelot inhaled deeply, steadily. "Not yet." He had to get used to the sound again at some point.
.o.0.o.
Lancelot sat at the table in his room, reading, when a knock sounded at his door. "Come in," he called.
Arthur entered. "Gaius has been telling me about the progress you've made. It's good to hear."
"Merlin's healing spells have done wonders," Lancelot admitted. He then dropped his gaze abashedly. "I suppose I made myself suffer needlessly by refusing his help."
"I completely understand why it was so hard for you to accept magic again after what happened," Arthur said, coming over and taking a seat. "You'll get no judgment from anyone." His expression turned serious. "How are you doing?"
"There's still some tightness and restricted movement."
"Gaius told me. I meant the other thing."
Lancelot hesitated. "I'm still here," he said.
Arthur nodded. "I've been thinking about where you might find a place if it's no longer with the knights. How about my council of advisors?"
Lancelot blinked, taken aback. "But…I'm not of the nobility."
"That didn't stop me from making you a knight."
Lancelot's jaw tightened and he lowered his gaze. "I don't want a token position."
"It's not," Arthur said. "Being on the council involves work, not the least of which is dealing with pompous old men clinging to outdated beliefs. But you're fair-minded and I think you'd bring a unique perspective. You would be a valuable voice if it's something you'd like to take on."
Lancelot really didn't know what to say to that, but he could see that Arthur was genuine in the offer. "I'll think about it," he said.
.o.0.o.
Merlin let himself into Lancelot's room without knocking, but Lancelot was used to it and didn't mind.
"I heard you accepted the position on Arthur's council."
Lancelot nodded. He still wasn't sure that was a good decision. He didn't even know what he was doing, but Arthur had expressed faith in him, and he wanted to try to live up to it.
"It'll be good to get the perspective of someone who hasn't spent their whole life in the comfort and safety of the nobility," Merlin said in a quasi echo of Arthur's own sentiment regarding the matter.
"I thought that's what you did," Lancelot replied.
"And now there's two of us. There's power in numbers."
"There's power in the fact that you can turn irritating council members into toads."
Merlin smirked. "I can't actually do that."
"I hope they don't know that," Lancelot replied with a small grin.
Merlin beamed. Then after a moment his expression turned serious. "I've been researching some more healing spells, and there's one I want to try, if you're alright with it."
Lancelot nodded. He still got a little jolt in his heart when Merlin first uttered the words of a spell, but it wasn't as visceral as it once was, and he now recognized Merlin's magic as feeling different than Sagra's had been.
Merlin moved closer and reached out to take Lancelot's arm, pushing his sleeve up to expose some of the minor scars on his arm. Lancelot held still as Merlin cupped his arm and lightly ran his thumb over a raised mark. He then whispered a spell, his eyes flaring gold. Lancelot felt a warm tingle, and he looked down in amazement as Merlin brushed his thumb over the scar again…and completely wiped it away.
Merlin exhaled audibly and smiled. "It worked."
Lancelot lifted his other hand to touch the spot himself. The skin was smooth, no hard lump beneath the tissue. The scar wasn't just hidden, it was actually gone.
"Want me to do the rest?" Merlin asked.
Still too stunned to form words, Lancelot just nodded.
Merlin helped him pull his shirt off, revealing his ravaged torso. Then Merlin slowly and tenderly began to erase every single one of the hideous scars. Lancelot watched them fade one by one, felt his friend's magic trickle through his flesh and leave him feeling relaxed and warm.
He knew the wounds to his soul were still there, but they had been healing. And maybe one day he would pick up a sword again.
But not today.
And that was okay.
A/N: And that's the end. Recovery is a long process, but Lancelot is finally well on his way. Thanks again to everyone who read along with this fic, including my lurkers. This story was personal to me; I wanted to capture some of the distress and anguish I've been going through, give it an outlet. And if anyone out there is also dealing with depression and/or recovery of any kind, I hope this story was able to provide a little something, whether it be solace, catharsis, or just a brief escape from things.