A/N: Thank you SnidgetHex, Hodophile-Sandhiller, GuestM Live, and Buckhunter for reviewing!
No. 18 LET'S BREAK THE ICE
It was a bitter wintry day, everything covered in fresh snowfall. Percival had to dress in long sleeves for this patrol to stay warm. Gwaine and Elyan kept talking about how they couldn't wait to get back to the castle and plop down in front of a warm fire with some ale. The entire thing was one big tempting of fate, which of course resulted in a group of bandits ambushing them. Battle cries and the screech of steel pealed through the air as a fight ensued.
The blanket of snow concealed the terrain, and a snowdrift suddenly gave way, carrying half of them down a slope to a flatter stretch of land. Percival quickly regained his feet, as did his opponents, and the skirmish continued with fervor. It wasn't until the knights emerged victorious that Percival realized they were not on a flat stretch of land but a frozen river. A frozen river that had just suffered a lot of weight and battering from the battle.
Percival immediately tensed. In that same moment, there was a sharp crack, and he held his breath in bated anticipation. Lancelot's eyes went wide a split second before the ice beneath his feet broke and he fell straight through into the river.
Percival darted forward, heedless of possibly fracturing the ice further and also plunging himself into the icy depths. Reaching the hole, he dropped down onto his stomach to spread his weight and thrust his arm into the water. The biting cold was a shock, and he bit down on the urge to withdraw as he flailed around in search of Lancelot. But Percival couldn't find him.
"Over there!" Gwaine shouted, pointing downriver.
Percival pushed himself upright to look and caught a swatch of red being carried beneath the ice in the river's current. He slid away from the hole as quickly as he could while the other knights took off across the ice. Away from the battle scene, the ice was firmer. But it was also thicker, and as Gwaine and Elyan started trying to break through the surface, Lancelot was swept past before they could, pounding his fists uselessly against the ice. The knights scrambled to their feet to give chase again. At this rate, Lancelot would drown before he froze to death.
"We have to head him off!" Leon yelled.
"He's moving too fast," Percival pointed out, heart pounding with terror.
"He's gone two feet in two seconds," Leon said. "So at that speed we have to—"
"Get at least eight feet ahead," Elyan finished.
"He's going this way," Gwaine added, pointing out the trajectory.
They picked up their pace, sprinting across the ice and past where Lancelot was floating beneath the surface. Elyan slid to a stop and dropped down to smash the hilt of his sword against the ice. The rest of them joined him, frantically digging at the ice to break it up enough. Because if they missed Lancelot again…he'd be lost for good.
They managed to break through, but the snow layer on top was obscuring visibility, so Percival tossed his sword to the side and plunged his head and upper torso into the freezing water. Hanging upside down, he spotted Lancelot careening toward him, and he reached out to grab hold of his arms with both hands, gripping with every ounce of strength he had. He then attempted to heave himself out. He didn't have the leverage, but the movement was signal enough to the others to leap in and help, and together they pulled Lancelot out of the river. He was shivering violently and choking on water but alive. Percival's skin felt like it was burning, which was a peculiar sensation for such harsh cold.
"We need to get you both back to Camelot," Leon said urgently.
Percival nodded, jerking shivering setting in for him now. Gwaine and Elyan hauled Lancelot up and half carried him off the ice. They made a hastened pace back to the city. The water streaming down Percival's face and neck turned to icy sleet on the way, and his waterlogged clothes made him feel weighted down with each dogged step. He stumbled, and Leon gripped his arm to propel him to keep going.
They made a beeline for Gaius once they reached Camelot, who immediately started barking out instructions for the knights to strip Lancelot and Percival of their wet clothes, and he sent Merlin for heated blankets.
Percival's hands ached with cold and his joints were stiff. He tried to get his own armor off but couldn't and had to submit to Leon doing it for him.
Lancelot was stark white and didn't make a sound as Gwaine and Elyan swiftly divested him of his garments. Gaius bundled him up first, and Elyan grabbed a towel to rub through his soaked hair. Leon cast a blanket over Percival's shoulders, and Gaius gave him a pair of thick mitts to put on.
Merlin returned with blankets and a bed warmer.
"Very good, Merlin," Gaius said and wrapped one of the blankets around the copper pan filled with heated rocks, then set it between Percival and Lancelot on the patient cot. Cocooned in a mound of blankets, the heat seeped through the layers and began to thaw their frozen limbs.
Lancelot, who had stopped shivering, began to shake again. Percival scooted closer to him, though he supposed there wasn't much body heat to share between them at the moment.
There was more treatment—the rubbing of hands and feet to keep the blood flowing and stave off frostbite, drinking warm wine, and swapping out the blankets for freshly warmed ones. Eventually, Lancelot's shivering subsided and he began to drift in exhaustion, his head falling on Percival's shoulder. Percival shifted just enough to properly support him, then stayed still. They were safe and sound and warm.
