"We've been talking last night, Tristan, Bors, Dag and me," Gawain just jumped ahead and told Arthur what he wanted to talk about. "We all had a hard time getting back to sleep after that spine-tingling scream of Lancelot."
Arthur nodded knowingly, waiting for the blond knight to continue.
"The nightmares… Lancelot is feeling threatened by the Woads. Understandably, considering what he went through." Gawain's voice was heavy with concern for the curly haired man. "But it's hurting him…"
Arthur heard the question that Gawain left lingering in the air. "I know. I agree, but it's too soon to leave."
"Leave? When?" Lancelot's voice sounded weak, but heavy with hopefulness at the same time. He only awoke to hear his commander's last words.
Arthur took a long look at Lancelot's pale face. "No," he said, authority in his voice to cover up his incessant worrying. "No, we're not leaving yet. It's a long travel on horseback, almost three days of riding. You are nowhere near well enough to handle that. No, and that's final."
The Roman watched as the hope in Lancelot's eyes shattered, leaving only fatigue and pain. "Can you sit up at all, for longer than a few seconds?" he asked, caving in slightly. The Roman regretted the question the moment it left his mouth as he knew that Lancelot would take up the challenge.
Lancelot turned his gaze to Gawain. "Help me?" he begged the blond knight.
Gawain moved forwards hesitantly. Only when Arthur also stretched out his hands to help lift Lancelot to a sitting position, Gawain came to his final decision.
Arthur immediately moved to sit besides Lancelot, watching him with hawk's eyes. His hands went to the Sarmatian's arms to steady him at the same moment as Lancelot closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the spinning of the world surrounding him.
Lancelot groaned as he swayed while sitting up, his back throbbing painfully. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. A feeling of utter faintness overcame him. He collapsed against Arthur, knowing that the Roman had made his point. He merely felt relief when Arthur gently laid him back down on the bed and the dizziness slowly retreated.
"Are you alright?" Arthur asked anxiously.
All of Lancelot's strength had left him and he hardly managed to mutter his response loud enough for the two men to hear him before he fell back asleep. "Bloody Roman."
Gawain couldn't help but chuckle softly as Arthur rolled his eyes.
–– 8 ––
All amusement was gone when Lancelot screamed out in his dreams once more in the middle of the night.
Tristan reached Lancelot even before Arthur did, surprised by the strength the ill knight possessed as he tried to keep him from harming himself.
"Lancelot! Wake up!" Arthur shook the dark Sarmatian gently. "Lancelot!"
"No…" Lancelot came awake with a start, another scream on his tongue. He watched around him disoriented, until he met Arthur's gaze. Air rushed back in to his lungs as he inhaled with a shuddering breath. "Gods!" His taut body relaxed slightly, and he could feel how the hands on his shoulders and hips holding him down slowly released their pressure. He was still gasping for air when Arthur's voice pierced into his mind finally.
"Lancelot, can you hear me?" Arthur's face showed his concern as he watched how the Sarmatian knight seemed lost.
Lancelot nodded faintly. He closed his eyes to try to erase the pictures of his dreams from his mind. He allowed himself to fade away into unconsciousness.
Arthur watched on as Lancelot slipped back to sleep. He felt both concern and anger welling up in his heart because of what his best friend had to endure, while all he could do was sit back and watch. He sighed deeply.
"He's been through a lot, Arthur." Tristan seemed to understand Arthur's thoughts. "I'm not sure how much more he can handle. He won't heal while he's here surrounded by the people who put him through this in the first place. It doesn't matter that Merlin has only been helping. In his dreams he only sees the same people as camping immediately outside of this tent."
Arthur remained silent, well aware that his scout was right.
"If it were anyone else of us that had been captured and in his position now, you would have asked Lancelot for advise, wouldn't you?" Tristan asked, trying to get through to his commander.
The Roman nodded.
"What do you think he would have said?" Tristan insisted.
Without thinking or hesitation Arthur started to answer. "He would have…" His voice trailed off, realizing what he was about to say. "He would have pressed to take the risk and take any of you home, back to the Wall."
"Would you have listened to his advise?" Tristan asked quietly.
Arthur nodded once more. "Yes… it would have strengthened my own decision." He shook his head in wonderment.
–– 8 ––
The first rays of sun in the early morning became visible between the trees, lighting the tent and bringing Arthur out of his contemplations. "Tristan? Can you watch Lancelot alone for awhile? I'm going to talk with Merlin." He rose to his feet silently and left after the scout had nodded his agreement.
Arthur found Merlin without any problem. He approached the Woad leader slowly, uncertain of what to say. He hated the man for what he had done to his mother, but he would be eternally grateful for saving Lancelot's life.
"Arthur." The dark skinned man stood, watching the Roman intensely. "You are leaving."
For a moment, surprise flashed over Arthur's features, before he realized that Lancelot's screams must have been audible throughout the entire camp and further even. He didn't underestimate the leader's cunningness nor his intelligence.
"Yes." Arthur wanted to say 'thank you' but it was hard to get the words over his lips.
"Will your knight be well?" The genuine tone of voice surprised Arthur once more.
"I think so. I hope so." He looked up and his gaze bore into Merlin's. "Thank you for helping him. He would have died without your help, undoubtedly." He paused briefly. "I am in your debt. Tell me how I can repay it."
Merlin slowly shook his head. "No debt, Arthur. I merely set something right that one of my men had done wrong. Nothing has changed. Our fight is with Rome, not Artorius and his knights. There is nothing to repay."
Accepting the finality in the older man's voice, Arthur nodded tersely. "We will leave tomorrow in the morning." Without looking back, Arthur turned around and left.
"In the future you will repay me, Artorius, son of Britain. In the future… not right now," Merlin whispered as Arthur was out of earshot, watching the retreating figure.
–– 8 ––
After Arthur returned to his vigil at Lancelot's side, he had drawn back into himself. Galahad was starting to become greatly unsettled by it. The Roman had hardly spoken a word to him. Of course he had told his youngest knight that they would be leaving the following morning, as he had told the other knights, but no more words had been exchanged since then. Galahad could see how the decision to leave was troubling Arthur. He didn't know how to give words of comforts to his commander either, because he too was doubtful. Lancelot had been sleeping without waking up since the troubled nightmare and it was already deep into the afternoon. He had had no more nightmares, so that would be good, Galahad thought, but it seemed a bad omen that the dark knight had not woken up for so long.
"Lancelot!" Arthur's voice pierced through Galahad's thoughts and he became aware that Lancelot finally had awoken.
Lancelot seemed disoriented again at first. The brown eyes were searching the tent, lingering on Galahad, then turning back to Arthur.
"We will leave tomorrow," Arthur almost whispered, before the Sarmatian could speak up.
Lancelot's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. He nodded slightly. "Thank you," came his simple answer.
"How do you feel?" Arthur asked with unhidden concern.
"Exhausted, empty, numb. My back is on fire," Lancelot answered honestly, knowing that only the truth would ensure his safe travel come morning. His voice sounded as exhausted as he said to be. "But other than that…" The grin almost made it to his face but it took too much of his energy.
"Will you try to eat something?" Arthur insisted.
Lancelot swallowed heavily.
"Lancelot, it is going to be a hard trip on you. Three days! You need every ounce of strength you can muster. I really think you should eat something."
Lancelot nodded his agreement, and allowed Arthur with Galahad's help to pull him into a sitting position once more. For a moment the world seemed to topple upside down and he quickly closed his eyes.
"Lancelot?" The concerned question from Arthur immediately followed.
"Give me a minute…" Lancelot nearly growled in return. He leaned heavily against Arthur, trying to keep any pressure of the arrow wound. He breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly. He tried opening his eyes once more. The world seemed to have stopped moving and returned to its normal orientation.
"What did Merlin say?" the Sarmatian asked, because he wanted to know and to let Arthur know the wave of dizziness had passed.
Arthur stretched his hand out to accept the bread that Galahad was holding out. He tore off a small part and offered it to Lancelot. When the Sarmatian had brought the piece of bread to his mouth with a trembling hand, Arthur answered, "He asked how you were doing, asked if we were leaving tomorrow. I asked what he wanted in return for his help. He answered 'nothing', that he had merely set something right that one of his own men never should have done in the first place. That's all."
Lancelot's eyebrows rose slightly, the question mark on his face at Merlin's motifs obvious. "How can you trust him?" he repeated his question of a couple of days back.
"I don't. But he did help you, and for that I'll always be grateful!"
Arthur felt how Lancelot was sagging against him more and more. "Do you want to lie down?" He felt the nod against his chest more than he saw it. Gently he placed his knight back on the bed. "Go to sleep. Get stronger." The Roman watched how Lancelot slipped back into sleep easily before he stood up from the bed. He turned to Galahad. "I'll be outside for a while. I won't be long."
Arthur noticed how the gazes of his knights were immediately on him as he stepped out of the tent. "He's asleep," he said calmly in response to their questioning looks. Without explaining himself further, he walked away from them, further into the woods, away from the camp. When he reached a secluded spot far enough away from the Woad camp to not hear the sounds anymore, he went down on his knees and prayed to his god to give his knight the strength to make it safe through the three day ride.
–– 8 ––
Arthur had given instructions to get the horses ready as soon as the sun rose beyond the horizon. All of them were ready soon, eager to leave the Woad camp, eager to get Lancelot back to the Wall, anxious to see how the dark knight would handle the traveling.
"Knights, mount!" Arthur swiftly mounted his white stallion, while the others except Dagonet followed his example. Bors held the reins of Dagonet's horse as well as Lancelot's black stallion.
Arthur nodded towards Dagonet, who immediately turned and entered the tent in which Lancelot was waiting.
Lancelot watched as Dagonet entered. He felt both great relief in his heart as well as trepidation in his veins at the coming days. He could feel the tremors going through his legs and cursed his own weakness.
"Ready?" Dagonet asked gently as he knelt down next to the bed, worry lining his face.
Lancelot nodded slowly. "I guess so…"
Dagonet studied the ghostly pale face of his fellow knight. "Just say the word, and we're staying…"
The curly haired man shook his head with determination. "No."
"Here we go then…" Dagonet carefully positioned his arms underneath Lancelot's frame and as gently as possible lifted him up in his arms.
Lancelot could not suppress the groan that escaped from his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut when bolts of pain shot through his back.
Dagonet stood as still as he could, and waited until Lancelot seemed to have recovered from the first shock. "Are you alright?" he asked, already knowing the answer with one look at the dark Sarmatian's face.
"Perfect, just perfect." The sarcasm with which the words were delivered was severely reduced by the weakness in Lancelot's tone of voice.
Dagonet carried Lancelot out of the tent and walked towards Arthur, careful not to jostle the knight in his arms too much. He saw how the beads of sweat were forming on Lancelot's face. The fear of how his friend would withstand the journey was only growing. Gently he lifted Lancelot up on to Arthur's horse and into his commander's waiting arms.
Lancelot felt how strong arms grabbed him underneath his shoulders and he had to bite his bottom lip not to scream out in pain as his back once more protested all the sudden movements.
Arthur felt how Lancelot tensed up completely the moment he took his weight from Dagonet. Quickly, with Dagonet's help, he maneuvered Lancelot to sit in front of him on top of the horse. He felt how his knight slumped against him, his head resting on his shoulder. Arthur wrapped his right arm around Lancelot's waist, his hand on the Sarmatian's chest, holding him close, but not too tightly as not to hurt him any further. He felt how Lancelot's was breathing rapidly, how his heart was racing under his hand. The Roman waited until he could feel how Lancelot's body relaxed a little against him, his breathing evening out.
Arthur knew it was a futile question, but he had to ask anyway. "We can stay if you want. We don't have to leave."
It took Lancelot a brief moment before he was capable of answering. "No! No…" His voice had gone up at least an octave, agony obvious in the small words.
Arthur signaled to his knights to get moving, and gave his own horse a brief kick in his flanks. Lancelot tensed up completely again as the stallion started to move. Arthur could hear how Lancelot's breathe caught in his throat. Knowing that he could offer no reprieve of the pain, the commander stayed silent, but briefly pulled Lancelot closer to him, relaying his support.
Gawain fell into step with Arthur, riding next to him, glancing at Lancelot, who had his eyes closed. He communicated silently with his commander, sharing their worries when their gazes met.
–– 8 ––
"How are you feeling?" Arthur asked hesitantly when they had been riding for more than an hour.
"I never knew I could ache in so many places…" Lancelot sounded exhausted, but irritation and anger were evident as well.
"There are a lot of things I never knew about you," Arthur answered mysteriously. The Roman could just picture the surprised look forming on Lancelot's face.
"The other knights and I spent a lot of time watching over you, and we shared all kinds of memories, stories…" Arthur continued, trying to take Lancelot's mind of the pain a bit. "Tristan told me about the archery competition that you won. But not really won, did you?"
Lancelot groaned, not just in pain this time.
Arthur chuckled lightly. "Dagonet told me why Excalibur kept turning up in other places in my room then where I left it, driving me nearly insane!"
Lancelot groaned again. "What else did they 'share'?"
"I never knew you kept so many secrets from me," Arthur grinned.
"Some things are better left unknown," Lancelot said amused. "What else…?" he asked again, not certain whether he wanted to know.
"Galahad told me you went into a Woad camp on a bet and took their supply of blue paint? Gawain confirmed when I asked him about it… Were you mad?" Arthur shook his head incredulously as he remembered the story Galahad had shared with him, while stifling his laughter at the same time.
"Juvenile recklessness," Lancelot declared, his voice hitching in pain all of a sudden. "Gods!" His whole body went rigid as his breathing became shallow. His fingers clawed at the saddle he was desperately holding on to.
Arthur immediately reined in his horse. "Lancelot?" he asked urgently, not certain of what had happened. The other knights brought their mounts to a stop as well, all eyes tuned on the pale knight in front of their commander.
"Gods! Don't… make… me… laugh!" Lancelot's words came by fits and starts. "It hurts too much…" He could feel how his body was trembling with fatigue as he tried to ride out the all encompassing pain. Several minutes passed before Lancelot straightened up slightly, leaning back against Arthur once more. "I'm alright. Ride." His voice was lacking strength entirely.
Arthur slowly set off in step, allowing Lancelot to adjust to the swaying motion of the horse once more.
"You thought I was going to die…"
Arthur could hardly make out Lancelot's words, but wasn't surprised at the question. He knew that Lancelot would realize the implication as soon as he brought up the memories the knights had been sharing. "I never gave up hope. But yes, it was close…" The Roman shuddered at the thought of the past week.
Lancelot remained silent. Arthur felt how Lancelot leaned against him even more heavily not much later, realizing that the Sarmatian had fallen asleep, overcome by exhaustion. The strong and steady heartbeat under his hand soothed him as he spurred his horse on into a slow gallop.
–– 8 ––
Gawain came to ride alongside Arthur. "How is he?"
"I'm not sure. He's in a lot of pain and too exhausted to stay awake even despite the pain…" Arthur sighed. "I'm not sure we should be doing this. I don't think he's ready for it."
"Let's hope he sleeps better at least now that we have left the Woads behind," Gawain tried to offer some support to Arthur.
–– 8 ––
Evening was approaching, with the sunset strewing a glow of red light across the fields. Lancelot had been asleep the entire day, never showing any signs of stirring. Arthur's concerns were matched by all the other knights.
Tristan had found a suitable place to set up camp for the night. The knights dismounted swiftly and led their horses to a spot where they could graze to their heart's content. Dagonet handed Bors the reins of his horse. He walked towards Arthur who was waiting patiently.
"Did he wake at all during the day?" Dagonet asked as he took Lancelot out of Arthur's hands. The Sarmatian seemed even more pale than when they left that morning.
"No," Arthur shook his head. "We need to make a fire, to keep him warm. Thank God, the nights are dry and warm this summer, but he's been shivering for the past hours." He jumped off his horse as soon as he felt all of Lancelot's weight lifted out of his hands.
An hour later, a fire was roaring high and the knights were consuming their meals, while Lancelot stayed asleep. Arthur kept a close eye on him.
"Shouldn't we wake him for some food?" Gawain asked.
Arthur looked at Tristan for advise as the same question had been going through his mind as well.
"I think he needs sleep more than he needs food, right now. We covered a lot of distance today, but there are still two long days of riding ahead," Tristan offered.
"We'll let him sleep then," Arthur nodded.
–– 8 ––
Arthur gently shook Lancelot as the rays of the morning sun warmed his face. "Lancelot? Wake up, my friend."
Slowly the Sarmatian's eyelids opened. Arthur immediately noticed the pain and ache in the brown eyes. Lancelot let out a long pained moan as his back throbbed, the hard ground not helping.
"There are two more days to go, Lancelot. We can stay here for a day. Give you a chance to recover from yesterday's ride…" Arthur offered, watching his best friend in concern.
Lancelot considered it for a moment. "No, I'd rather go on. The pain would be as bad tomorrow as it will be today, I'm sure of that. Let's just get to the Wall as soon as possible!"
Arthur sighed, but nodded in agreement. "You should eat something before we leave, okay?"
Lancelot nodded. He groaned out loud as Arthur helped him sit up. He felt like going back to sleep, not like eating. The warm broth that Arthur poured into his mouth helped him warm up a little. He relaxed against his commander and before he was even aware of it, sleep overtook him once more.
–– 8 ––
Lancelot slept through most of the next two days. He only would wake up when one of the knights shook him awake, slipping back into oblivion soon after again. Arthur's heart was heavy with worry. Never before had he been so glad to see the Wall appear before him.
