The door to Lancelot's room opened quietly. Gawain quickly slipped in and shut the door behind him again quietly. He didn't look like he had slept, Arthur thought.
"None of us are able to sleep, and none of us were capable of waiting for news any longer," Gawain explained as if he had intercepted the Roman's thoughts. Arthur just nodded.
Gawain looked over to the bed. Lancelot's face seemed to have swollen even more since he'd seen him, his eyes circled by dark smudges. The once white bandages were stained red completely.
Gawain moved over to Arthur's side and placed a hand on his commander's shoulder, both offering and seeking comfort. "Anything…?" he whispered.
Arthur shook his head. Concern was etched in his green eyes. He turned around and pointed silently to a second chair that was standing against the wall. Gawain went to retrieve it and sat down next to Arthur. "Did the healer have anything else to say?"
Arthur shook his head once more. "No. He comes in here once ever so often, but there's been no change. Except that the swelling is getting worse, but that's to be expected…
They conversed for awhile in a hushed tone. Thanks to the quiet, both men immediately picked up on the soft moan that came from the bed. As one, Arthur and Gawain moved from their chairs to the side of the bed.
Arthur placed his hand on Lancelot's, unconsciously registering how cold the hand felt to the touch. "Lancelot?"
The two men waited for a response but none seemed to be forthcoming. Until suddenly Lancelot's eyelids began to flutter. It took a few seconds before his eyes opened slightly. He squinted against the light that the moon was spreading across the room.
"Lancelot?" Arthur prodded one more time.
This time the Sarmatian knight seemed to have heard him. He tried to move his head in the direction of the voice, but instantly halted as pain erupted in his head everywhere. He closed his eyes again quickly, hissing in pain.
"Don't try to move. You were hit over the head and you have a very severe head wound." Arthur's tone of voice was soothing, like talking to a small child. "If you can, try to open your eyes, but don't try to move…"
Very slowly the dark eyes opened slightly for a second time. His gaze rested first on Gawain, then turned to Arthur. Arthur saw the confusion and pain in his eyes.
"Wha…" Lancelot didn't continue as the word pounded around in his already throbbing head.
Arthur moved his hand from Lancelot's hand to his shoulder. "Shhh, just lie still for awhile. We'll alert the healer that you're awake." He looked over his shoulder to Gawain, who quietly nodded and left the room.
For once Lancelot did as he was told, and he just lay there trying to understand why his head felt like it was going to explode. Arthur had seen how the knight had winced when he spoke so he just rubbed his hand over Lancelot's shoulder to let him know that he was there without speaking.
After only a few minutes, Gawain returned with the healer in tow. "Ah, good, you're awake," the healer commented in a low voice, respectful of his patient's condition. Lancelot's eyes were now resting on the healer. He continued to look at him while the healer swiftly examined him.
Arthur noticed how Lancelot seemed to be shivering all over when the healer pulled the blankets back up. "Are you cold?" he asked in a hushed voice. As before, Lancelot's eyes wavered over to the person who had spoken to him.
Lancelot nodded once before he realized his mistake in moving his head. He screwed his eyes close tightly, and couldn't suppress a groan of pain. He licked his lips once, twice, before he swallowed.
Arthur immediately noticed the tell tale signs of nausea. He grabbed the bowl that had been standing ready on the small table next to Lancelot's bed, and was just in time to hold it when a wave of vomit came out of Lancelot's mouth. While holding the bowl with one hand, he wrapped his hand carefully around Lancelot's neck, taking care to avoid the swollen right side of his face, and tilted his head slightly to make sure that Lancelot wouldn't choke on his own vomit. Lancelot's body shuddered violently while he threw up several more times. Arthur wasn't even sure if the knight was still conscious. When he was more or less certain that the retching had stopped, he gently allowed Lancelot to lie back again.
When Arthur had put down the bowl, Gawain handed him a wet cloth. Arthur gently cleaned Lancelot's face, wiping away the beads of sweat on his forehead as well as the vomit on his lips. Lancelot's eyes stayed close, but the wrinkles of pain were still obvious in his face.
Arthur sat back down on the chair, rubbing one hand over his face, as in defeat. He watched the deadly pale man in the bed before him with much dread.
"It's good he woke up. We'll see what the next day brings, but either way, it's good that he woke up." With those words the healer left the room.
Moving towards the door, Gawain looked at Arthur. "He's right, Arthur. It's good he woke up. Lancelot's strong, don't forget that!... I'm going to tell the others that he woke up, and I'll come back with something to keep him warm. He was cold, wasn't he?"
Without taking his eyes off of Lancelot, Arthur replied. "Yeah, he was shivering. You'll find two furs in my rooms that should keep him warm enough…" Before Gawain shut the door behind him, Arthur called him back. "Gawain… thank you for reminding me that he's strong. It's just… he looks so… vulnerable…"
–– 8 ––
There were only a few hours left before sunrise when Gawain left, which Arthur spent dozing off and on in his chair. The tiniest of sounds would wake him. Only some originated from the man in the bed in front of him as Lancelot would shift his hands or legs always followed by a pained moan.
When sunset arrived the door to the room opened once more and Galahad entered. He was carrying a piece of bread in one hand and a bowl of broth in the other. Arthur accepted gratefully as his stomach growled.
Galahad sat down on the chair that Gawain had vacated earlier and studied his unconscious brother-in-arms. "Gawain told us what happened," Galahad said without turning to face Arthur. "He didn't wake up again, did he?" Unconcealed hope was tangible in his voice even if he thought he knew the answer already.
"No." Arthur couldn't suppress a helpless sigh. "He lets out a pained moan now and again but he never shows any sign of waking." Arthur paused for a moment. "Maybe it's for the better…"
Galahad's head whipped around, his gaze focusing on the Roman. "What do you mean? You don't want him to wake up?" he asked in an incredulous and angry voice.
"No! No… that's not what I meant at all! Calm down, Galahad." Arthur was surprised at the outburst of the youngest of his knights but he knew it only sprouted out of concern for Lancelot. And lack of sleep most likely, he thought. He placed a calming hand on Galahad's arm. "I just don't want him to experience the same pain again as he did last night! I know…"
Galahad would never know what Arthur knew as Arthur suddenly stood up from his seat as though he had been stung by a bee. When following Arthur's gaze, he saw how Lancelot was struggling to open his eyes. He moved to the other side of the bed and looked Arthur in the eyes. His commander communicated silently to remain still.
"Lancelot?" Arthur asked softly.
Again the dark eyelashes fluttered. This time Lancelot managed to open his eyes a little.
"Lancelot?" Arthur asked again. This time he was rewarded when the glazed and tired eyes of his best friend met his gaze.
"Arthur?" Lancelot's voice croaked from disuse.
"Yes. How are you feeling?" Arthur moved even closer to the bed, making sure that the other man didn't have to turn his head to see him.
"Wh… what happened?" Lancelot moved his left hand from under the blanket and furs that were covering him.
Arthur intercepted the hand before he could bring it to his face. He could feel the small tremors going through Lancelot's body. "You took a blow to your head. Don't worry about it right now. Are you in pain? Do you feel sick?"
"Yes. No… Yes, I think so," Lancelot looked exhausted while he'd been awake for no more than a few minutes. "What happened?" he pressed once more. "Was there a battle?"
Arthur realized that Lancelot had no recollection of what had occurred in the great hall. He didn't want to lie to his friend, but he didn't think that telling him the truth right now was the best alternative either. "Sort of. We can talk about it later. Should we get the healer? Are you in much pain?"
A rooster outside the valetudinarium crowed to announce the new day. Lancelot felt like nails and daggers were being pushed through his skull. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound and the pain.
Arthur watched concerned when Lancelot's face distorted in pain. In the morning light the extent of the bruises was becoming visible, but also the grey paleness of Lancelot's skin. Arthur watched and waited patiently until Lancelot opened his eyes once more.
He saw how Lancelot's lips moved to form words, but they were spoken so softly that he had to move his ear close to Lancelot's mouth to catch what he was saying. "The light? Is that what you are saying? The light hurts your head?" Arthur could barely make out the positive answer. "Then close your eyes. We'll make it darker in here. Go to sleep now…" he added, realizing that the dark knight had already complied.
Turning his attention from the once again sleeping man to Galahad, he stood next to the bed. "If we are going to make it darker in here, then we are going to need some kind of thick, dark cloth. Go to the supply warehouse and see if you can find anything suitable there, Galahad. And can you tell the men that he woke up again? They'll want to know."
With a curt nod which let his curls bounce, Galahad acknowledged Arthur's instructions and left the room.
–– 8 ––
It was Dagonet who brought a thick brown blanket into the room with him a short while later. "Arthur, how is he doing?"
"Dagonet. No change so far, he's sleeping." Arthur pointed to the small window through which bright light was starting to filter when Dagonet reached the blanket to him. "The light is bothering him. I thought we might be able to cover up the window to make it darker in here."
Dagonet nodded. "Yeah, that should work. We just need something to hold it in place…" Dagonet scanned the room, but didn't immediately see anything that would work. His eyes lingered on Lancelot. "He actually looks worse…"
Having had the same thought, Arthur wasn't surprised by his words. "I know."
It took awhile before the two men had found a way to keep the heavy blanket in front of the window, but when they did, it efficiently blocked the light.
"Arthur, if you want to get some sleep, I can stay with him," Dagonet offered.
"No, it's fine. I'd like to be here when he wakes up again. He was much more aware of things last time, and I think he'll want to know what happened to him next time he awakes. But thank you all the same, Dagonet." Arthur briefly clasped the big man's shoulder. "And thank you for bringing the blanket."
"No problem. Anything for Lancelot. And one of us had to go to the supply warehouse anyway."
Arthur threw a questioning look at his knight.
Dagonet chuckled. "Jols has been going on and on since last night about a water bucket that has gone missing. He was driving us mad, so we brought him another one."
"Missing?"
"Yeah, he says he used it in the morning and put it away where he always puts it away, but when he went back to the stables after we'd found Lancelot…, he…" Dagonet's voice trailed off, while his gaze swept over to the bed. From the corner of his eyes he could see Arthur pensively staring at Lancelot also. "You don't think that…"
"Find it!"
TBC
A/N: thank you all for the wonderful reviews! Enjoy :)