A/N: Not related to the Lily verse. I actually had planned to write this before deciding Lancelot was going to be a father in that series.
"Three Men and a Baby"
Lancelot liked accompanying Merlin when he went to gather herbs in the woods. He wanted to learn how to recognize certain plants growing in the wild in case he was ever in a situation where he needed to use them.
He didn't know why Gwaine had decided to join them this time. The man didn't look interested in learning the various plant names and uses, but instead was meandering around with a long wooden stick, occasionally idly thwacking it against things.
"How much longer?" he asked.
"I still need to pick three more," Merlin replied.
Gwaine sighed audibly.
"Why did you even come?" Lancelot asked.
"In case you ran into trouble."
"We're just picking herbs," Merlin pointed out.
Gwaine scoffed. "You two have gotten into plenty of trouble doing that. I thought it was more exciting than this."
Lancelot and Merlin shared a secret smirk. That was the problem of using herb gathering as the cover for their…escapades. This time, however, they were actually doing that.
Then a scream rent the previously quiet forest. The three of them stiffened, but Gwaine moved first, launching himself around the trees and toward the source. Lancelot and Merlin quickly followed. They came upon a scene of bandits attacking a trio of travelers: two men and one woman. The two men had only a pair of wooden staffs with which they were trying to defend themselves, but they were no match for the swords and battle axes being wielded against them. One of the bandits had the woman by the arms and was shaking her.
"Where is it?" he was yelling.
Gwaine drew his sword and charged, as did Lancelot, crashing into the fray with a clang of steel. They dispatched their opponents within a handful of moves, but they were too late; by the time they whirled to face the last, the remaining two bandits were on the run, and the three travelers were on the ground, blood spilling out over the soil. Merlin rushed to the men to check them while Lancelot went to the woman, who was still alive but had been stabbed in the stomach. She flinched as Lancelot knelt down beside her.
"Easy," he said softly. "We're here to help." He glanced at her wound, mouth tightening into a thin line. It was bad.
She clawed at his arms, eyes wide and desperate. "Help her," she begged.
Lancelot frowned. "Who?" He roved his gaze around the area, but he didn't see a fourth person.
Merlin jogged over, shaking his head grimly about the men.
"Help her," the woman breathed again, her chest hitching. Then her shaking stopped and she fell limp, eyes staring vacantly up at the sky.
Lancelot's shoulders sagged, and he reached out to gently close her eyelids. Gwaine stood a few feet away, jaw tight. As knights, it was their duty to protect people. Failure cut brutally.
"What was she talking about at the end there?" Merlin asked.
Lancelot stood up. "I don't know."
The silence of death was broken by another cry, but this time it belonged to a baby. Lancelot twisted around, trying to narrow in on the source. He moved past the woman's body to some bushes, the crying getting louder. Crouching down, he pushed some of the underbrush aside and discovered a small burrow with an infant bundled up inside. His breath caught in his throat.
He quickly lifted the baby out of the burrow and into his arms, turning to face his friends. They shared somber looks at the discovery. Lancelot felt the pang of being too late to save its mother all the more.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, rocking it gently. He raised a hand to adjust the baby's blanket and noticed a reddish marking on its shoulder. Curious, he pulled the edge of the blanket back. There was a birthmark in the shape of the Druid triskelion.
"They're Druids," Gwaine said, a touch of judgement in his tone.
"We can't take it back to Camelot," Merlin immediately said.
No, Lancelot supposed they couldn't, not with that mark. "Then we take her back to the Druids."
Merlin nodded in agreement but cast an uncertain look at Gwaine. "I can do it," he said.
Lancelot gave him a look; like he would leave Merlin to do this alone. But neither would Gwaine, and they weren't one hundred percent sure exactly how he felt about the Druids, whether his prejudices were deep-seated or merely a product of hanging around Camelot.
"Yeah, not a chance, Merlin," their friend said.
"It won't be dangerous," Merlin added.
"Bet they thought that," Gwaine said grimly, eyes raking over the slain travelers. He cleaned his blade and sheathed it. "Better get going. The day's already late."
Lancelot shifted awkwardly, suddenly not sure what to do with his arms full of baby. He looked at Gwaine, who immediately threw his hands up.
"Not it."
Lancelot turned to Merlin, who shook his head.
"You look like you've got it."
Lancelot sighed. "Fine, let's go."
They set off, Merlin taking the lead since he knew where the Druids' last encampment had been. Hopefully they were still there. But it wasn't long before the baby started wailing again. Lancelot tried to calm her down, jouncing her softly as he walked and making shushing noises. It wasn't working.
"She's louder than a dragon," Gwaine complained.
"Maybe she's hungry," Lancelot said. Not that they had anything to feed an infant.
Merlin pursed his mouth in thought, then pulled off his neckerchief and grabbed his water skin. He soaked the cloth but didn't wring it out, then brought it over and carefully placed a bunched up corner in the baby's mouth for her to suck on. She tried to spit it out at first, but Merlin kept trying to coax her, and finally she started chomping on the water-logged fabric. At least they could keep her hydrated this way.
It bought them a few minutes of quiet, but after she'd had her fill of the wet cloth, she began screaming and kicking fitfully again.
"Maybe she's wet," Gwaine suggested.
Lancelot grimaced at that one; none of them knew how to change a diaper cloth. But it was either try or endure the banshee in their ears all the way to the Druid camp.
"Merlin, my cloak," he said, angling his back so Merlin could remove it.
Merlin laid it out on the ground, and Lancelot set the baby down on top of it. He hesitated before simply undoing the swaddle cloth and then the diaper. It was soiled. But what to replace it with?
Lancelot sighed in resignation and told Merlin to cut a strip from his cloak. He then tried to remember how he'd undone the soiled cloth so he could do the reverse in securing the replacement. It didn't look very good, but it was better than nothing, and he simply swaddled the baby up in the blanket again to keep the diaper cloth from falling off.
"There," he said, pleased with his accomplishment.
The baby gurgled in response.
"Hope you're not gonna ask for that back," Gwaine snarked.
Lancelot rolled his eyes. Knights' cloaks tended to suffer a great deal; he didn't mind giving up his for a noble cause.
He picked the baby up, and Merlin scooped up his cloak and rolled it up to carry over his arm as they set off again.
Yet not much later, the infant was crying again.
"Why won't she stop?" Gwaine groused.
"She misses her mother," Lancelot said solemnly. He lowered his head toward the distraught child and said softly, "I know how you feel. I lost my mother when I was young too. Not as young as you—too young. And I'm so sorry you've found yourself out here on your own. It's not fair. But you're not alone; we're going to look after you."
She finally settled, and a pair of dazzling green eyes gazed up at him.
Merlin smiled. "Who knew you'd be so good with little ones."
Lancelot smiled back.
Despite their progress, the afternoon faded into evening and they were too far from the Druid camp, and so had to stop and make camp themselves for the night.
The baby started crying from hunger again, and this time the water wasn't a sufficient substitute for her mother's milk. Which left the three men completely at a loss.
Gwaine dug in his knapsack for an apple and a knife and cut out a small chunk of the fruit. "Try this."
Merlin scoffed. "She's too young for solid food."
"You never know," Gwaine rejoined. He gestured at Lancelot. "Give her here."
Lancelot narrowed a skeptical look at him. Gwaine huffed impatiently and reached to take the baby, which Lancelot reluctantly passed over. In spite of his concern, Gwaine nestled her in the crook of his arm competently, then waved the piece of apple in her face.
"Who wants something tasty?" he cooed.
She wailed in response. Lancelot couldn't believe she hadn't worn out her vocal cords yet.
"Come on," Gwaine cajoled. "It's yummy in the tummy." He made the piece of apple weave in and around the baby's face before taking it on a course straight for her mouth. "See?" he said smugly as he plopped it in the target.
"Don't choke her!" Lancelot warned.
The baby coughed and expelled the piece of fruit, then started crying again.
Gwaine scowled and picked her up to hold in front of him. "Why can't you just cooperate?"
She coughed again and then spat up all down Gwaine's front. He recoiled with a shout of disgust and thrust the baby away from him. Merlin leaped in to take her before the knight could accidentally drop her in his haste.
"Oh, look at this," Gwaine bemoaned.
Merlin tried to bite back a laugh, unsuccessfully.
"At least it didn't hit your cloak," Lancelot said with a smirk.
Gwaine muttered profanities under his breath as he stormed off to try to rinse it off.
The baby continued to cry and cry in Merlin's arms, oblivious to his attempts to rock her to sleep. His expression pinched in frustration and distress; none of them liked her being so upset and helpless to do anything.
Merlin glanced the direction Gwaine had gone, then turned back and whispered a quick spell. His gold eyes lit the night like embers, and a pair of tiny blue orbs appeared above the baby. They swirled round and round each other, capturing the infant's attention and finally quieting her as she became too busy watching the glowing lights.
Lancelot smiled.
When a twig snapped, Merlin quickly extinguished the lights before Gwaine could catch him. The knight's uniform was free of chunks but stained as he marched back to their campsite and sat down with a huff.
A minute later, the baby started crying again.
It was not a restful night with a fussy infant keeping them up. Lancelot eventually took her back, rocking her in his arms and singing to her, to no avail. She cried for hours before she finally exhausted herself and slipped into sleep. But Lancelot still didn't get any rest, too afraid she'd wake up if he tried to put her down. So he simply sat up until dawn, the child nestled safely in his arms.
Merlin sat up and rubbed at his eyes, frowning at the break of day. "Why didn't you wake me up for a turn?"
"And risk waking her up by moving her?" Lancelot replied, breaking off with a jaw-cracking yawn. "I'm fine. I'll sleep after we get her safely back to her people."
The baby woke at their voices and began fussing. Lancelot and Merlin exchanged a grimace. Yay for another day of walking with a screaming infant.
"When I expected trouble out herb gathering," Gwaine muttered as he got up, "this was not what I had in mind."
"Hey, you got to fight some bandits," Merlin said as he took care of the fire, making sure to snuff out any residual embers before they set off.
Gwaine grunted in reply.
Lancelot got to his feet, exhausted and chilled, and tried to stomp some circulation back into his limbs while being careful with the baby. The next thing he knew, four armed men were suddenly surrounding them. He recognized the two bandits that had escaped yesterday.
"Hand over the child," one of them growled.
Lancelot furrowed his brow and flicked a look at Merlin and Gwaine. They were after the baby? Then, the attack on the Druids the day before, it wasn't random…
Gwaine's hand inched toward the hilt of his sword, but one of the ruffians moved closer threateningly.
"Now!" the apparent leader demanded.
Lancelot instinctively held the child closer against his body. He watched Merlin and Gwaine exchange a wordless look, and then Merlin grabbed a fistful of ash from the fire pit and flung it in the nearest men's faces. They cried out and staggered back, and in that moment of distraction, Gwaine drew his sword and launched into battle. Merlin picked up a piece of wood and swung it like a bludgeon.
Lancelot struggled to get his sword out of its scabbard one-handed, but he managed it just in time as the first two mercenaries recovered from their momentary blindness and attacked. The forest was filled with the cacophony of clanging blades and the baby's shrieking.
Gwaine was fighting two men at once, while Merlin fumbled to fend off the third. Which left Lancelot on the defensive as the fourth came at him. The impact of clashing blades reverberated through his arm, straining his muscles. But he couldn't let go of the baby.
"A little help here!" he yelled.
"Bit…busy…too!" Gwaine rejoined, parrying successive blows from two sources.
Lancelot was driven backward, until finally his opponent struck his sword with such force that it went flying out of his grip. He twisted to shield the baby with his body, but the blow never came. There was a raging bellow as Gwaine leaped in and deflected it. His first two foes lay slain on the ground.
Lancelot scrambled out of the way as Gwaine drove the mercenary back. Several feet away, Merlin used his magic to drop a branch from above on his opponent's head, knocking him out. With one final thrust, Gwaine stabbed the last.
"Is she okay?" he asked, whirling back toward Lancelot.
He nodded, running a hand over the baby's head as she continued to wail. "Yes, she's okay."
"Aw, you do care," Merlin teased.
Gwaine huffed and looked around at the slain men. "These men were after her. Probably hired to hunt down Druids."
"There could be more," Merlin added. "We should keep moving." He snatched up Lancelot's sword and held it at the ready as they hurried away from the carnage.
Lancelot held the baby close, tucking his chin down over her. He didn't understand how anyone could be so cruel as to hunt down and kill an innocent child. Even if she did have magic, she hadn't done anything wrong, hadn't had the chance to. The only consolation he had was that even though these men had been in Camelot, Lancelot knew it hadn't been Arthur who'd sent them after their targets. They could have fled from another kingdom, seeking refuge among their kin, only to perish on the way.
That won't happen to you, Lancelot vowed.
It was a tense journey with all of them on guard, but they didn't run into any more trouble And finally Gwaine pulled up short and ducked down a little as he spotted movement up ahead through the trees. Lancelot caught snatches of hanging fabric and smokey hazes from cooking fires.
Merlin ventured forward first, and Lancelot and Gwaine followed. The child had thankfully quieted a while ago and didn't give them away. Not that their abrupt arrival was covert. Everyone in the camp went rigid at the sight of them, and Lancelot recognized the fight or flight response.
"We come in peace," Merlin said, belatedly realizing he was still holding the sword aloft. He hastily lowered it.
A man who looked like a leader stepped forward. "Why have you come?" he asked suspiciously.
Lancelot moved closer. "A group of Druids were attacked in the woods. We tried to intervene, but we were too late. She was the only survivor." He angled the baby swaddled in his arms for them to see and pulled back the blanket to reveal her birthmark. "We wanted to return her to her people."
The leader's eyes widened in a mixture of relief and sorrow, and he walked over, arms outstretched. Lancelot felt a moment's reluctance to give her up, but he made himself do so. That had been the point.
"You have done us a great service," the Druid said, gazing down at the child. "The birthmark signifies she is to be our next High Priestess." He looked at the knights and Merlin. "The loss of her guardians is a tragedy, but you have brought her safely to us. How can we repay you?"
"There's no need," Lancelot replied. "We were only doing what was right."
The man flicked a wary look at Gwaine. "Knights of Camelot are not known for that," he said tersely.
"I hope one day soon that reputation will change."
The Druid regarded Lancelot for a moment, then nodded. He canted his head in acknowledgment at Merlin and then turned back to the encampment with the child.
"Wait," Lancelot called. "I don't suppose you know her name?"
"Vala," he replied. "And when she is older, she will hear of your noble actions in saving her life." He inclined his head in farewell.
Merlin returned it, and he nodded for Lancelot and Gwaine to leave.
"I don't suppose we'll ever see her again," Lancelot mused as they headed back to Camelot. He had only spent one day with the child, but it was bittersweet to say goodbye.
Merlin shrugged with a smile. "You never know."
Lancelot smiled back. Indeed, someday they both hoped for peace between Camelot and the Druids. And a world where people like Merlin and Vala weren't hunted but able to live freely as themselves, magic and all.
