Arthur hurried along the wet streets. The meeting with Livius had taken almost all morning. He knew Lancelot didn't need him by his bedside all day long anymore, and hadn't needed him there for a couple of days, but he liked to check in on his knight from time to time.
Lancelot still spent most of his days asleep, as the healer had predicted, but more often now Arthur would find him awake, staring out of the window from his bed. The head wound and bruises were healing nicely, whereas the headaches were still frequent. But Arthur had noticed with concern that Lancelot was still looking as pale and drawn as before despite all the hours of restful sleep he was getting. He knew that his friend was troubled by the attempts on his life. They had talked about it a couple of times, trying to understand why it had happened, but Arthur realized that something else, something deeper was bothering Lancelot. He just didn't know what.
Walking through the corridor that lead to the knights' quarters, Arthur only slowed down when he reached the door to his own quarters. He quickly brought the papers he was carrying inside, before he went on to Lancelot's room a few doors further. Cautiously he opened the door, not wanting to disturb Lancelot were he asleep.
Arthur's eyes widened in surprise when he found the bed empty. Swiftly he stepped into the room. "Lancelot?" he called out softly, his eyes drifting over the room. It was empty. Immediately he set off in the direction of the tavern, this time running full out.
Galahad and Dagonet were the first who saw Arthur running toward the tavern. They went over to the table where Gawain and Bors were sitting, alerting them to the arrival of their commander. Arthur ran up to their table before halting to a stop.
"Arthur! Is something wrong?" Dagonet asked before Arthur could speak.
"Knights. Lancelot's not in his room. Have you seen him?" Arthur asked with trepidation.
"What?" Bors' bellow was mimicked by the other knights in surprise. Gawain stood up, concern written on his face. "He was in his room, and awake, only an hour ago."
Tristan stepped up to the table from out of nowhere. "Arthur. He's on the battlements. He has been for awhile."
–– 8 ––
Lancelot had been on the battlements for an hour nearly, just looking out over the green land before him. It had been raining most of the day, making the grass glistening with diamonds in the sun that had just appeared. Sighing he sat down tiredly, his back against the wall. It reminded him so much of the endless steppes at home. Home. His synonym for a safe haven filled with love and family and friendship that cushioned him. He had been at Hadrian's Wall for nearly fourteen years now, and it had taken him at least ten of those years before he felt truly at ease here. Maybe he even felt 'at home'. The friendship between the knights that were left was strong, stronger than a bond by blood could ever be. Arthur he loved like a brother. Love, family, friendship. It had all been there before, but he didn't feel safe anymore, safe in the place that he might have started to consider as home. He had never been one to believe in heaven, or hell, for that matter. Now he didn't know if he would ever be able to believe in home again.
The sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs pulled him out of his introspection. He felt too tired to stand up and see who was approaching.
When Arthur reached the last steps, Lancelot finally came into his view. The curly haired knight was sitting down, leaning against the wall, his eyes following Arthur as he walked towards him.
Kneeling down in front of him, Arthur took in Lancelot's appearance. He looked absolutely exhausted. "You shouldn't be here," Arthur said concerned.
Lancelot merely nodded. "I know."
"Then why are you here?" Surprise was evident in Arthur's voice.
"I was getting sick and tired of lying in bed all day." Arthur could tell that Lancelot was in a dark mindset.
To try and lighten the mood a bit, Arthur answered, "I thought that was because of the blow to your head." The smile never reached his face, as he saw Lancelot's serious gaze. "Tell me what is troubling you, Lancelot, please? Maybe I can help."
Lancelot turned his face away from Arthur, and stared into the distance without speaking at first.
"You know how we ride out of here almost daily, without knowing what the day will bring, but with the certainty that every day could be our last? How many battles have we fought? How many times have we escaped death? Every mission is seemingly more dangerous, especially now that only seven of us are left. It has never frightened me. I know I will be able to see my enemies while I fight them. If I die by the hand of one of them, then so be it. Hopefully my death will have saved one of ours. You, Gawain, Galahad, Bors, Tristan, Dagonet. I would give my life for you, for any of you."
Lancelot remained silent, but Arthur didn't dare say anything out of fear that Lancelot would't continue.
When Lancelot continued, his voice had gone even more quiet and the tiredness in it was tangible. "But knowing that you are going out there and could get killed every time is entirely different from being attacked by one who is on your own side, from being attacked there where it is supposedly safe."
Lancelot sagged against the wall even further. Arthur reached out a hand, and touched his knee. Lancelot looked up slowly with pained dark eyes.
"I was starting to think about this…" he continued while gesturing around with his right arm, "this place as my home. A home where my friends are safe, where I am safe. I think of you as my family…" Lancelot dropped his head in his hands on his knees. He drew in an uncertain breath, which made his shoulders shudder.
Arthur had to strain his hearing when the Sarmatian continued again.
"And now all of that is gone… I don't feel safe anymore. I'm afraid, not for myself, but for all of you who I consider my family. I feel like I've lost my home all over again. It's broken and I don't know how to put it back together again. I don't know how to deal with an invisible enemy."
Arthur placed his other hand on Lancelot's face, and careful of the healing bruises made him look up at him.
"You're forgetting something, my brother. You're not alone in this. When you were taken from Sarmatia, you were truly alone. Your family was taken from you, there was no one left to look after you, and no one left to look after. I know how hard you tried not to get close to anyone when you arrived here, out of fear of losing them again. But not now. You're right, we're family now. And we are all here, and we will all look after one another. You don't have to watch all of our backs on your own, Lancelot. We will all keep each other safe. Don't carry this burden alone. It's not yours alone to bear."
Lancelot released a sob that he hadn't realized he had been holding. Swiftly, Arthur moved to sit next to him, and pulled him into an embrace.
"Feel safe again in knowing that all your brothers-in-arms are watching out for you. And for each other!" Arthur felt Lancelot nodding slightly in his arms. "If you watch my back in battle when we're out there, then I'll watch yours right here."
Lancelot raised his head and leaned back against the wall. Arthur could see the many emotions crossing his features, the dark eyes filled with uncertainty and hope and fear. "Will you be alright?" the Roman asked quietly.
Lancelot nodded slowly. "Give me some time." He turned his pale face towards Arthur. "Thank you," he added softly. They sat together in love and friendship for some time.
"Of course," Arthur said in a teasing tone, "if you would lay off the women, I wouldn't have to watch your back in here at all…"
Lancelot smirked. "And give Galahad and Gawain a chance to get to them? I don't think so!"
"Or me," Arthur added.
Lancelot started snickering and then burst out laughing.
"Hey, I know how to please the ladies, you know!" Arthur tried to look dignified, but soon he was laughing along with Lancelot, glad to see his best friend acting more like himself again.
When their laughter died down, Lancelot slumped back against the wall again. Arthur could see how their talk had taking its toll on him, draining him from his last reserves. He quickly stood. "Now are you going back to your bed willingly, or do I have to carry you there once more?"
Lancelot jumped up in mock horror. Immediately, he collapsed against the wall when a wave of dizziness came over him.
Arthur's smile froze on his face. "Lancelot!"
Lancelot could feel how Arthur got a hold of his arm, while he pressed his head against the cold stones. He remained still while specks of light were dancing in front of his eyes.
Arthur watched on anxiously while Lancelot kept his eyes closed, his face another shade paler.
Slowly Lancelot opened his eyes again, grabbing hold of Arthur's shoulder to steady himself. Arthur moved to drape Lancelot's arm over his shoulder so he could ensure that the Sarmatian wouldn't collapse to the ground if anything else happened.
"I'm okay. It's passing already." Lancelot said, drawling slightly as his head throbbed painfully. He suddenly felt his other arm being lifted also and draped over a shoulder. Surprised he saw how Galahad was standing on his right side. He never had seen Galahad running up the stairs. "How…?" It took too much effort to finish the question coherently.
Arthur smiled gratefully at Galahad. He had noted how Galahad had immediately spurted up the many stairs the moment Lancelot sagged against the wall. The others were waiting at the foot of the stairs. Guiding Lancelot cautiously down the stairs, Arthur answered before Galahad did. "I told you we will always watch out for you. As you do for us."