A/N: Sorry about not updating very recently, but writer's block, school, exams, and family issues prevented me from doing so. I now have fractured my foot (which has left me in very bad pain) and so I believe I will be able to find more time to write. I have already written over what will be half the next chapter and so that will be up shortly.
Padmé, is a character whose name and personality I have stolen from one of my friends storys….at her request. So Padmé is hereby dedicated to my great friend, Sarah.
Read and review xD
"I'm worried," Arthur turned and looked Lancelot in the eye.
Almost three days had passed since Lancelot had found Honor disturbed in her sleep. Since that time, Honor had stayed in Lancelot's chambers, refusing to even look at anyone save for Lancelot and Vanora. And, for the two that she would acknowledge, they didn't know the last time she had eaten. The healers had been called, from all over Britain, but even the great ones had to acknowledge defeat. They did not know what was wrong with Honor, and they could not find out.
Lancelot sighed. "Honor is difficult, Arthur. There is nothing Van or I can do."
"I know, Lancelot, I know. But you tell me that Honor has not eaten in at least three, four days," Arthur said.
"That is so, Arthur."
"Have you not thought of the possibility that she might die?"
"Constantly."
Lancelot's vague, yet still to the point answer, partially infuriated Arthur. "What I mean, Lancelot, is should not something happen for her?"
Lancelot turned his eyes to the floor and shook his head slightly. "What am I to do, Arthur?"
"Have you considered getting another healer?" Arthur asked, pacing the floor slightly.
"I cannot see how any of them would have the power to help her in anyway…at least…" Lancelot sighed, watching Arthur's boots pacing.
"At least?" Arthur stopped pacing and looked at Lancelot carefully.
"I do not think that the wounds are just what we see. I believe that there's more to them…in her…" Lancelot looked up and ran his hand through his hair.
"I know Lancelot. Do you wish for me to call one of the Woad healers? They know this land well, as well as it's enemies and so I believe they could be of some use to Honor as she is from this land herself," Arthur nodded.
"Do you really think they could help –" Lancelot began.
"You doubt my people's healers?" a female voice broke in over the conversation and in walked Guinevere, Queen of Britain.
Lancelot looked over to her and bowed, almost mockingly. "I do not doubt your people as healers my lady, but I do have my doubts."
"About what, my lord, pray tell me. I would have thought that Merlin's healers would be able to heal better than you and your fellow knights whose only occupation is battle," Guinevere's dark eyes flashed as she glared at Lancelot.
"Lancelot, Guinevere, please do not start fighting over a little thing like this," Arthur, the ever-peace keeper held up his hands "If Lancelot would prefer it, we could send for a healer from Rome."
"Rome?" Guinevere and Lancelot spat in unison.
"You do not need to bear grudges against my homeland for all eternity. There are some things about it which you should admire, if only a little," Arthur smiled slightly. "However, if you wish it, I could contact one of commanders in the army who I knew when I was first taken to Rome, and ask him to recommend someone who has been across land and sea, and who now, I believe, works for Cristiano, my friend, and is in his employ."
Lancelot rolled his eyes. "I beg to remind you Arthur, that the last person we had to communicate with…well…he was a friend of your father's after all."
"Aye, and this is a friend of mine," Arthur smiled.
Guinevere watched the exchange between the two friends silently.
"So it is settled," Arthur nodded to himself. "I will send word to Cristiano and ask him to recommend a healer that would be able to help Honor, if only slightly."
Lancelot nodded. "I must go and see Honor, Arthur."
"Must you go?" Guinevere smiled at Lancelot. "I am sure that Vanora can look after Honora for you. You need not run to her side for every moment."
"Her name is Honor," Lancelot gritted his teeth. "And she is my responsibility so therefore I cannot leave her for more then small amounts of time as she is distressed if I am not there for her."
Without waiting for a reply from Guinevere, he nodded to Arthur, and strode out of the room.
Guinevere instantly turned around to her husband-to-be, and Arthur almost groaned in horror as he saw Guinevere's lip tremble.
"It is alright, my love. Lancelot is tired. He has not slept well since Honor has returned here with us. You must not worry, he will be well."
"Honor seems to be the cause for concern around here for several people," Guinevere sighed, choking out the words slightly.
"Come, my love, do not upset yourself for Lancelot's gruff words," Arthur slipped an arm around Guinevere's thin waist and led her to a chair near the fire that had been built up in Arthur's chambers.
"I worry for Lancelot though, my lord," Guinevere reached out for Arthur's hand as she sat back in the chair.
"How so?" Arthur walked in front of Guinevere and knelt there.
"He seems different. I do not mean that he has been manipulated in mind by any person alive or dead, but he seems….he seems to be a different person."
"Does he?" Arthur frowned, standing up. "I will keep a close watch on him myself, do not worry my love."
Arthur bent over Guinevere, kissed her on the head, and started pacing his chambers again, his mind filled with thoughts.
Vanora looked up as Lancelot entered his chambers at a hurried pace. She stood from the chair that had been placed by the bed, and walked softly into the middle of the room to meet Lancelot.
"She has not stirred since you left to go and speak with Arthur, Lancelot. I would not be concerned as much as I would be if she were awake as when she is sleeping, her body takes care of itself, and heals," Vanora smiled up at Lancelot and patted him gently on the back. "What news to you bring from Arthur?"
"He is sending word to a friend of his that he had met in Rome, a commander in the army who apparently knows of a healer that would be able to help Honor…if only very little," Lancelot replied, softly.
"Oh? Why does he not call upon one of the other healers that reside here in Britain, instead of wasting time in sending a message, having one returned, and having the healer sent," Vanora stared at Lancelot.
"I know not, obviously, this is a scheme of Arthur's. Remember that healers here have tried and failed. Perhaps Arthur thinks it best to call upon someone who is not in this country," Lancelot shrugged, his eyes finding the unconscious form on his bed.
"Perhaps…" Vanora's voice trailed off as she drifted into her thoughts.
Vanora moved quietly back to her seat by Honor, while Lancelot moved to the window, and leaned against it, his eyes never once leaving Honor's seemingly peaceful face.
Some days later, and many miles away, Commander Cristiano of Rome sat wearily back in his chair, having finished a battle report for the Emperor. He had been hearing rumours about a boy that he had known in Rome – one Arthur Castus – and shortly after, had found that indeed, the rumours were true, and Arthur was now the king of Britain, and should be married soon. If Cristiano had time, before he had to be back in Rome, he would have travelled to Rome, stopping in Britain to see his old friend, however time and urgency did not permit him to do so.
He looked up as he heard a knock at the door.
"Enter."
One of the maidservents at his lodgings entered quickly. "If you please, a messenger just came with this for you, sir. Said it was urgent, he did."
"Thank you," Cristiano said, taking the small bundle of paper.
The maid curtsied the way out of the room while Cristiano turned his attention to the letter.
Flicking it over, he recognised the seal, but could not place it. Opening it, his mouth opened slightly as he read the letter, and then as he read the name at the bottom, he stood up, strode the small space of the room, opened the door and bellowed for Raul – a young man in the army who fearlessly stood next to him in battle, and who aided those who needed help.
Within seconds, Raul's quick footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor, and then Raul appeared in front of Cristiano.
"Sir?" Raul asked, looking astonished at the expression on his commander's face.
"Find Padmé and send her to me immediately. I would speak to her," Cristiano said, nodding to Raul.
"Sir," Raul nodded and walked quickly away.