No. 13: That's gonna leave a mark / This is gonna suck / burns / cauterization
Whumpee: Lancelot, minor Elyan
Elyan stared into the flames, biting his lip. Their patrol was on the outskirts of the Darkling Woods, sent north by Arthur who had included three of his favorite Knights from the Round Table. Their quest was simple: the northern villages were losing their cattle to an unknown something. After keeping watch over the pastures that day and part of the night, the knights were able to figure out what was killing their cows: one big, solitary lynx, who didn't like being caught in the act. He had come after the knights and got in a lucky swipe before Percival gave it the final blow with his sword. Now their small patrol of five was down to four, as Lancelot had been on the receiving end of the lynx's claws and was now sporting a huge bloody wound from his collar bone to his shoulder.
Since it was still nighttime, the patrol had set up camp nearby and cleaned the wound the best they could with a small fire. With every passing moment, though, Lancelot's face got paler and paler, and the wound still hadn't stopped bleeding yet. The four of them voted and had decided that it was time to cauterize the wound.
With Elyan being a former blacksmith, he was probably the best suited for the job… but it didn't make causing his friend pain any easier. Percival had been trying to keep Lancelot awake for a while, talking in a low voice and keeping pressure on his wound, but blood loss made Lancelot cold and tired, and he was soon unconscious… Which was good, since this was going to suck.
With a sigh, Elyan grabbed the iron stick from the fire and walked over the Percival and Lancelot. The other knights on their patrol were huddled around, keeping watch and making themselves available for anything Elyan might need. He motioned to Percival and two others: "Hold him down… this is going to leave a mark."
As soon as Elyan pressed the iron onto Lancelot's skin, the man tried to simultaneously tried to rise up and wiggle away. Elyan just kept it on long enough – just 2 seconds, now 4 seconds – OK, done! – for it to do its job and stop the bleeding. He dropped the stick in the snow and fell to his knees, looking closer at the burnt skin and the damage he'd done. The wound itself seemed to be bubbling, and Lancelot had passed out again, his brow covered in sweat. Elyan sat for a minute, gasping for breath, before moving off to the side and emptying his stomach of all the contents from the day as quietly as he could. It was never a good feeling to cause another knight pain, and he hated every moment of it.
It was Percival who came and found him again. "The others have agreed to stay here for the night. It's best not to move Lancelot straight away, and it will give us a chance to rest before making the hard journey back to Camelot tomorrow." It was all Elyan could do to nod his agreement. Percival looked closer at him. "You did the right thing, y'know? He could have died without you." And with that, the knights bedded down for the night, and another kept watch. Even though he was exhausted, Elyan couldn't leave Lancelot's side. He pulled his bedroll over to where Lancelot lay, biting his lip in nervousness. Lancelot's brow was still on fire and he made little gasping noises as he breathed.
The next morning was a gloomy wintry gray day, where the sun doesn't necessarily rise as much as it just plops into the sky. Elyan got up from his uncomfortable slump on the forest floor, and as he checked his friend over again, he realized that Lancelot's breathing was more regular than before.
"Lancelot?" he called softly, mindful of the still-waking knights from the patrol. Lancelot's eyes fluttered, letting out a soft "Ow" with his breath.
Elyan felt relief flood through him. "How are you feeling? Don't get up," he warned, preemptively throwing an arm around Lancelot as he shifted on the cold forest floor.
"Like someone ripped a hole in my shoulder," was the soft reply.
Elyan's relief turned to guilt. "Yes, well, that would have been me." He sighed. "The lynx that was killing the cattle got in a lucky punch, and you were bleeding out," he explained. "We had to cauterize the wound."
As Lancelot opened his eyes a little more, squinting in the brightness, he tried to smile. "Thank you. I wouldn't have made it through the night without you."
"Try to rest, we'll be in Camelot soon." And with that, Lancelot let his head fall back to the ground, into a healing sleep.
Lancelot woke up briefly when Percival passed him up to Elyan's horse, then the patrol kept to a nice rocking canter or slow walk all the way to Camelot. Elyan was worried by the low-grade fever that kept emanating from Lancelot, so he pushed his horse hard until they clattered into the citadel.
"Get Gaius!" he shouted. "And a stretcher!"
Lancelot was quickly loaded onto a stretcher and carried by four guards to Gaius's chambers. Elyan hoped that the old man could wave one of his special tonics at the wound and it'd be good as new… but he knew that reality would be a lot grimmer.
When Elyan got to Gauis's chambers, he was put off by the bustle. Some of the guards were in and out with buckets of water, Merlin was hovering over a mortar and pestle, a garlicky scent coming from the orange paste, and Gauis was in the thick of it, putting cold cloths on Lancelot's head and chest and examining his burn wound. The same burn wound that Elyan had created. He ducked his head and went off to the side to wait or be put in charge of something.
"Elyan," Gaius was calling him over. "Tell me more about what happened."
As Elyan launched into the cat saga, he shamelessly grabbed his friend's hand. All he wanted was for Lancelot to feel better. When it got to the part where he had to cauterize the wound, Gaius seemed to understand.
"Thank you, Elyan, you did everything you could. Merlin?" he called the boy over. "Mix some honey in with the seaberry and aloe, and bring it here."
As Elyan got up to make room for Merlin at Lancelot's side, his vision blurred and he stumbled into Gaius's big hewn table. "Elyan," Gaius's attention was now on him. "When was the last time you slept?"
"He can have my bed," Merlin offered immediately, saving him a response. Elyan smiled in gratitude as his friend helped him up the small staircase. This way he could rest and stay by Lancelot's side… and he really didn't think he could make the journey to his bedchambers on the other side of the castle. It was everything he could do to take his chainmail off, and he probably wouldn't have made it without Merlin's help. They didn't talk, each focused on his own task: getting to bed, and getting back to Lancelot.
The next morning, the sun was in its proper position at sunrise, and Elyan woke up in Merlin's bed, at first forgetting about the whole debacle the night before. He crept down the small staircase, surprised to see Merlin up, helping Lancelot eat some porridge while Gaius quietly worked at his table with a tonic.
"Lancelot! You're feeling better?"
Lancelot glanced around appreciatively. "Yes, all thanks to all of you… thank you for taking such good care of me." He noticed Elyan eyeing his small sling. "Gaius says it's temporary, just to help my shoulder heal. I can be back to swinging a sword in no time!"
Gaius raised his infamous eyebrow. "With the proper rest time, healing time, and if you do the stretches I told you about, yes." He turned his attention to Elyan. "How are you feeling this morning? Any better?"
"What was wrong?" Lancelot sounded worried.
Elyan blushed. "Just a little tired, is all."
Gaius snorted. "If by 'a little tired', you almost tried to lay on my table last night, then yes." He handed Elyan the small tonic he had been working on earlier. "That's to help the sore muscles. I already told Merlin to tell Arthur that you'll need today off, but " – the eyebrow rose again – "if you rest today, there's no reason why you can't go back to being a full-time knight tomorrow."
Pocketing the tonic, Elyan gave a grateful smile. "Thank you, Gaius, for everything." He turned to Lancelot, who had a little porridge smeared on his cheek. "I trust you're in good hands – and it sounds like I have a date with my bedchambers."
With that, the castle went back to its usual hustle and bustle, off to another day.
-Fin-