Disclaimer: Well I wish I did own this, but I don't, so I have to make do with borrowing.

Chapter 4

A year later, just at the onset of winter.

Celene looked up from her book to check the cupboard. She knew she was well stocked; there were still last years herbs that hadn't been used up. The knights were out on a mission, if she wanted anything she would have to ask Jols, or wait until the knights came back. Her mother was fading fast; Celene didn't know how she would last the winter out. Although the past few days she had been feeling better, which was hopefully a good sign. There was hope for Sebille yet.

Things never have a way of turning out how you expect them to though. Celene had checked all the cupboards, and found them stocked to her satisfaction. Next she checked the beds and their straw mattresses, which were fine. What was the problem were the sheets and covers, some were ripped, and others were completely threadbare. Celene told herself she was going to have to replace some, and that she was going to have to repair others. It would keep her busy and occupied for the rest of the day, or so she thought.

A gust of wind knocked the door open, and saw Sebille standing in the door frame. Her frame, which had now lost all its meat, and was almost just skin and bone, was doubled over in a harsh coughing fit. She held out her handkerchief to her daughter, which was covered in blood. Celene jumped into action. Firstly she ushered her mother in and shut the door, pulling the bolt across to stop the wind blowing it open again.

Next Celene turned to her mother and helped her to lay down on one of the beds, settling her head higher so that she wouldn't choke. Quickly she made a tea to soothe her mother's throat, which must have been raw from all the coughing. Gently Celene poured the tea down her mother's throat. It seemed to have a calming effect, the coughing stopped and her mother fell into something resembling sleep.

A few hours later saw Sebille burning with a fever. Celene was scared for her mother, giving her teas only when it was absolutely necessary. It was also a case of, would she be delaying the inevitable. She hoped that she wasn't. Although if she was she wanted to know that her mother would survive at least long enough until Bedwyr got home, to say goodbye to his wife. Then there was the problem of her burial. The first frosts were just arriving; it would be incredibly hard to bury her in frozen ground.

Celene had to stop herself thinking about that side of things. There was always the hope that Sebille would pull through, however slim the reality was. There was always hope. Whatever hope there was left Celene was clinging to, and she told her mother as such, telling her that she couldn't die, that she had to see spring in again, that she would see spring again, if only one last time.

The day faded into the night, and yet still Celene sat by her mother's side, looking for any sign of improvement or any sign that her mother was leaving her. There was no indication either way, apart from the fever, which was raging. There were no more cures to be tried; nothing was working, apart from bathing her forehead in cool water. Nothing else mattered apart from keeping her mother alive.

There was little hope left to Celene, and yet what little there was she still entertained in her heart, quite unwilling to let the spark go out until the last possible moment. She ate only when she was brought food by Vanora, who had to stay and force her to eat it. The worry was starting to tell on Celene, who was beginning to look tired, after only one night of not sleeping. Its having to grow up well before her time, Vanora reflected.

Five days later Sebille's fever broke and she was peacefully sleeping. Celene was happy, and felt the flame of hope rekindled within her. She knew that if her mother was not to last until spring, then at least she was going to last until her husband got home, so she could say goodbye properly. It was sort of a balm to the healer, who allowed herself to breathe freely again. There was nothing now that would stop her mother from seeing her father again, unless it was Sebille herself. The idea that Sebille would choose to die was too much for Celene to entertain.

Vanora had often come and sat with Celene. With her child she helped to occupy Celene, if only for a few hours. Vanora also confided that she was expecting another, her second. She also said what annoyed her about Bors was that he had only named their son, Gillie, after she had pestered him for ages. It was light relief for Celene, and Gillie always lightened up Celene's day, with his childish babbling.

Eventually Sebille woke up, and was distressed to find herself in the infirmary, instead of in her own home. She said she wanted to die in her own home, not here. Celene soothed her by saying that she wasn't going to die, and that when she was well enough she could go back to her own house. Sebille replied whiningly that she had only come to get her daughter so that she could die in her own home. In the end Celene declared that she was despairing of her mother ever getting better, especially if she kept up this attitude.

Eventually it became clear that Sebille was not going to last incredibly long. The only hope of her saying goodbye to her husband was if the knights returned any time soon, which Celene found herself doubting. She always worried about the knights when they went out, ever since she was a little girl. The added worry over her mother was driving her almost crazy. The only things to keep her sane were Vanora and Gillie.

One morning Celene woke from her new bed of a chair, and shivered in the early morning air. She immediately jumped into action, to stop her mother from freezing. She pulled over more blankets, but it was a little too late. Sebille was already coughing badly. She managed to sit up and spit out the blood that was gathering in her mouth, but she soon collapsed back down exhausted.

Sebille was tired. She wanted to die, was ready for it. She had been ready months ago, but she had to last just that bit longer, that little bit more agony. Slowly she had lost her appetite, slowly lost her weight until she was painfully thin. It hurt to cough now; it felt as if she was bruising her very bones, which in a way she was. She had stayed alive because her daughter willed it, but now, even the strength of that will wasn't enough to keep her. She was tired, and wanted to go to sleep. If she could only stop coughing.

"I'm tired." Sebille murmured.

"Stay, just a few hours more." Celene pleaded.

"Can't, too tired. I'm sorry." Sebille moaned.

"It hurts you to talk, stay quiet." Celene commanded.

"I'm sorry, tell your father that." Sebille murmured again.

"Tell him that yourself, please stay." Celene was crying.

"I have a song for you, you know that?" Sebille asked.

"No I didn't." Celene looked slightly perplexed.

"Let me sing it to you." Sebille rasped.

I see your tears

I see you pain

Neither belong here

In this moment

Or time

Or in your lifetime

I see you torture yourself

Thinking what ifs

But please don't think

On such things

As might have beens

They will only hurt

Please no more tears

Dry your starry eyes

And look ahead

See your path

Walk it bravely

And without fear

Please be how I remember you

Smiling free and young

Please show me that smile

That graced my days

And know even when I am gone

I will always be here.

At that Sebille laid back, seemingly happy with what she had accomplished. Her coughing fits were becoming fewer and farther between, and do did her breaths, which came without a hitch for the first time in a while. She seemed to be happy, and she smiled. She held her hand out, as if to a child, and Celene took it. It was cold and yet hot to the touch. Eventually Sebille closed her eyes, and you would almost think she was sleeping.

Celene looked up at her mother. The past months had seemed to fall away, and the harshness of the cheekbones and jaw seemed softened by death. Indeed she looked how she had before, a beautiful woman. Her hair fell in gentle waves, instead of the mass that it had hung in recently. This seemed like the woman a knight should come home to, not the shell she had become. But that shell was dearly beloved by both husband and daughter, a shell that held the fiery woman only death had truly tamed.

"Mummy?" Celene asked a child's voice coming from within a woman's body.

When she got no answer she laid her head down at the side of the bed and cried. There was nothing else for her to do. She clung to her mother's hand like it was a lifeline. In a way it was. It was a memory of her mother, and how she had been in life. She had always seemed so strong, yet these last few years had revealed a different side to her mother, one which was no less dear to her daughter.

That was how Vanora found Celene, clinging to her dead mother. She shook her head, but for her it was business as usual. She sent Celene immediately to bed, saying that the poor girl hadn't had much sleep these past six days. Celene went to protest, but Vanora was just as stubborn, and said she would be of no use half dead.

Next, gently Vanora laid out Sebille. She had known the woman all her life, indeed she was as much a part of her life as Vanora was of hers. It was a kind of mutual thing between the families of knights. Although, Vanora reflected grimly, she had gotten on better with the daughter, her being closer to her age. Celene was probably the one catalyst that linked everything together, her father and his friends to reality, and her and the knights. Really if it hadn't been for Celene she never would have met the knights, and her life would have been a lot more boring.

Vanora decided to look in on Celene before she went home. The girl, bless her, was curled up around herself, in a foetal position. She hadn't even got as far as undressing herself properly; she had just managed to unlace her dress before she fell asleep on her bed. Quietly Vanora set about bringing order to Celene's unusually untidy desk. Once she had done that she laid fresh candles into the holders, the others were burnt out, and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Celene awoke the next day just as the sun was beginning to rise. She felt somewhat confused and disorientated, but then she remembered where she was and she calmed down a little. She stood up and at that moment chose to look at herself in the mirror.

What she saw shocked her. She seemed thin, and pale, with black shading underneath her eyes showing her lack of sleep. Her hair hung unbound and unbrushed. All in all she thought she looked ill. To talk about it she felt slightly ill. She was very aware of what was happening, and yet at the same time she was strangely detached.

Sorting out her appearance made her feel a little better. She changed out of her crumpled dress into another one, and brushed out her long hair before pulling it into a plait and securing it with a leather thong. There was nothing she could do about how she looked, but after she had splashed her face with water she looked a little less tired, which was good.

The kitchen staff all looked up at her with apologetic looks in their eyes. Celene was slightly annoyed at that, and snatched at some bread before she walked back to the infirmary. There she found Vanora with the undertaker and her mother was laid out. The undertaker was talking to Vanora about when her mother would be buried. This annoyed Celene, did this man know nothing? Her mother would be buried when her father came back, and only then, not a moment before. Vanora seemed to sense Celene's pensive mood and turned to her.

"She has to be buried soon, I'd say tomorrow." The undertaker finished.

"You're saying my mother has to be buried without my father here?" Celene asked, her calm voice betraying her anger.

"It has to be done before the frosts, with or without your father." The undertaker sighed, as if explaining to a child.

"My father will be back soon, and then my mother will be buried." Celene looked perplexed slightly.

"Absolutely impossible, she shall be buried tomorrow!" The undertaker exclaimed.

"Tomorrow will be fine." Vanora cut in, before steering Celene out the room.

"The arrogance of that man!" Celene exclaimed.

"Your mother has to be buried soon, your father will understand." Vanora smiled.

Celene found herself smiling back. In her almost trance like state she could believe it. She knew her father wouldn't mind, not really. She knew she was tired; perhaps all she needed to do was sleep. Yes, that was it, sleep for a long time and wake up in the spring, when everything would be better. Without realising it she was being guided by Vanora back to bed, where she instantly fell into a deep and almost restless sleep.

A few days later the knights came home. Bedwyr was slightly confused that his daughter wasn't there to greet him. He knew Sebille wouldn't be there, she would be waiting when he got home. Rather, back to his rooms in the fort. They had recently moved back there, after Sebille became worse. Looking around he saw Vanora, looking stony faced, and almost feared the worst. Almost, but not quite, he couldn't quite believe it. When he saw Vanora walking over to him though, he knew the worst had happened.

"Sebille's dead." Vanora declared quietly.

All the knights stopped to let the news sink in for a few minutes. Bedwyr just stood there, unable to believe it. His wife dead. It seemed unbelievable, and yet at the same time it wasn't wholly unexpected. Everyone knew that it had only been a matter of time, though how much time had been a different matter. No one wanted her to die, and no one was expecting her to die, it had been a long time in coming. So long in fact that it seemed as if it were never coming.

"She's been buried already, we couldn't wait." Vanora explained quietly.

Everyone nodded, they understood. It had happened before to others before. Silently they all went their separate ways. Bedwyr went back to his house, which no doubt he would want to get rid of for all the memories it held. It was an unspoken agreement that the knights would visit Celene, to offer their condolences.

As they filed in they were surprised to see Celene at the cabinet where all her herbs were, talking away to herself quite happily. She turned when all the knights came, but when she saw who it was she turned back to her work. She had seen that no one was hurt, and was glad of it. So she went back on to sorting out the herbs and taking down the ones she needed. She needed to brew up some cough mixture for someone or other; right now the name was escaping her.

Once she had finished and closed the doors she turned around to see the knights. She managed a weak smile, but it was tainted with sadness and tiredness. There were black shadows under her eyes, even though she had slept for two days straight. The strain of having to be normal was starting to take its toll on her, and it was not what she needed. She knew she was going to have to see her father at some point; he was going to take Sebille's death hard. The only Celene could do was to be there for her father.

"Celene what happened to you?" Galahad exclaimed, before he could stop himself.

"Ignore him; he doesn't know what he's saying." Lancelot elbowed Galahad as he said that.

"Its fine Galahad, I'm fine." Celene smiled a genuine smile this time.

"We heard about your mother." Arthur broke the silence that had descended.

Celene looked at him then, with shock in her eyes. They revealed a great pain, a wound that had not yet healed, and it would take a long time for it to heal, and she would need the help of her friends for her to heal. Quietly she began to sob, and pulled her hands across her face. Her shoulders were hunched over. Perceval immediately walked over and hugged her to him, his presence calming her somewhat.

Everyone was left wondering what would happen in the future, for them and their friends and family.

Author's note: I can't really say I hope you enjoyed it. But what I can say is I hope you liked it.