A/N: How did you like the last chapter? I bet you didn't see that ending coming! This is where the feelings between Alara and Mordred get dialled to 11. Enjoy!
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, although I do love them very much. These characters belong to the BBC and the relevant production companies. Any characters that are of my own creation will be listed below.
OCs: Alara, Gaheris, Meilyr
TW/CW: There's some light description of various injuries and some vomiting in this chapter. If that makes you uncomfortable at all, I would skip that.
CHAPTER FOUR
The feast was due to begin and Mordred's chair was empty. He had been missing for several hours, and only Gwen knew were he was. "He and Alara had gone out for a ride." She said. "I didn't think that they would be gone this long."
Arthur immediately organised several search parties. Merlin scoured his texts, looking for some form of a basic tracking spell, but was unable to find anything of use. "I can give the hunting dogs some of Alara and Mordred's clothing, but that's it."
"That's the best shot we have of finding them. It's already dark, and we don't know how long they have been gone," Arthur said. "Their scent may have gone stale, but all we have to go on is hope."
Alara had been travelling for hours now. Mordred was sat in front of her, as draping him over his horse could make his head injury worse. She had no idea where she was, all she knew was that she had been riding in a straight line.
With Mordred fading in and out of consciousness and his broken arm as patched up as it could be, she knew that the best chance that he had of recovery was back in Camelot. "Mordred? Are you okay? How's your head?"
He groaned and his head lolled forward. "We need to stop ... going to be sick."
Halting both horses, Alara pulled her friend off and bought him to the side of the path, letting him vomit. She bought over the canteen of water, taking a small sip before offering it to him. "Hopefully we're not too far," She nodded. "We'll get you to Gaius and he can help you."
Mordred did not take the offered drink, and instead just laid by the path, his breathing now laboured.
"No, no, no. Don't start doing that now," Alara said. She hauled him to the horses, her arms hooked under his armpits. "C'mon now, we're getting back on the horses."
Mordred abruptly dropped, his body now a deadweight. "C'mon Mordred, we're almost home now. Don't die on me. Don't you die, c'mon now." Alara tried with all of her strength to lift up his body, but failed to do so. They both collapsed, Mordred now laying across Alara's legs.
She began to cry, her tears dropping onto Mordred's bloody face. "I'm sorry." She sobbed. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." Alara stroked Mordred's face and ran some fingers through his hair as if to brush it. Out of nowhere, she started to hum a simple melody.
The dogs caught a mix of scents as they hunted deeper and deeper into the forest. The knights were trotting on horseback, shouting; Arthur headed the main group to the north, whereas Merlin headed a second group to the west. They had had no luck so far, with the dogs only catching brief whiffs and then losing it almost as quickly. Merlin was beginning to get anxious - this confirmed that Mordred should no longer be trusted, Alara's feelings for him aside.
"Are you okay?" Gwaine asked him.
"My sister is missing and you think now is a good time to ask if I'm okay?" Merlin snapped.
Gwaine was taken aback by the comments.
"Sorry." Merlin said. "I just... I'm worried, okay?"
"Don't worry about it, mate, I get it."
Merlin kept his eyes forward, a ball of light in his hand lighting up the vastness before them. "Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme. Fromum feohgiftum." He spoke. The guiding light glowing brighter as the incantation began to form.
"C'mon Alara," He whispered. "Follow the light."
She could barely see the trees with how dark it had become. Mordred's breath was thready, and his pulse was beginning to grow very weak. Stilling humming the same tune, Alara tried to wrap her cloak tighter around them both, making sure that Mordred had more coverage than she did. Closing her eyes, Alara hoped that the winter chill would be kind to her and to Mordred.
Time had passed, and a blinding light caught Alara's closed eyes. Opening them, thinking it was morning, she was shocked to find a ball of brilliant, milky-white light before her. "A guiding light! Mordred look! We're going to be okay! They've found us!"
Mordred roused a little, but he dropped once again.
"We're here! We're both here! We need help!" She shouted out, hoping someone - anyone - could hear her voice. "Help! Somebody ... Anybody! Help!" Alara listened out for hoof-beats or any recognisable voices. "We're here! Help! We need help!"
It was Percival who heard Alara's voice.
Listening out again, he waited to hear the voice. "We're here! Help! We need help!"
"There she is!" He bellowed, urging forward with a hunting dog in tow. "We found her!"
There was a chorus of shouts and calls as the search party moved toward the sound of Alara's voice.
They found her in the middle of a path: she was sat up against one of the horses, Mordred lying across her legs - and in bad shape. A light was hovering above them, bringing clarity to the scene before them.
Percival went to pick up Mordred, but Alara stopped him. "He's got a broken arm, he bashed his head and is unconscious. I don't think he'll make it."
"Oh don't you worry," Percival grinned. "We've got the whole of Camelot on hand, so we'll get the two of you help in no time."
Merlin's party was the next to arrive. He zeroed in on Alara, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I've got you, don't worry. Shhh, shhh. I'm here, I've got you."
"I need to make sure Mordred is okay." She wailed. "He's hurt. He's badly, badly hurt."
Merlin stopped her. "He's going to be okay, Alara. Hey, look at me. He's going to be fine." Hoisting her up onto his horse, Merlin rode up to where Percival was with Mordred's comatose form. He didn't extinguish the guiding light, however, letting it linger as they travelled back to Camelot.
They reached Camelot as dawn was breaking. Mordred was rushed to Gaius' quarters, laid on his worktable.
"What's happened?" The old man questioned.
"He's got a broken arm," Percival said. "And quite a sizeable bump to the head."
Gaius began his examination as Alara was bought in. She set herself to work, helping Gaius bind Mordred's arm and salve his wounds with ointments. "You did very good to set this arm," Gaius commented. "Who taught you this?"
"Mother did." She answered. "I broke my leg when I was small, and as she was binding my leg, she showed me how to do it."
Gaius smiled. "She would be proud to see how you did." He caught sight of the bone that had broken through the skin; it was raw, the cut jagged and angry. "How did you deal with this?"
"I cleaned the wound with some water and did as best as I could to place the bone back. Is something the matter?"
"No, no. You did the best you could with the injury, which is commendable."
Merlin watched as Alara worked around Gaius, the two talking rapidly as they set to work healing the broken knight. Percival pat him on the shoulder. "Drink?"
"Yes please." He nodded, leaving the room.
Both Gaius and Alara worked tirelesly until they were satisfied that Mordred was as safe as could be. They agreed that he had lost a considerable amount of blood from the head-wound and the broken skin, and that he would have to be cared for until he was considered safe. The young man had been stitched up, and some ointment placed on the cuts; his arm had some new bandages wrapped around it, with two planks of wood used to steady the broken bones.
"Someone will need to stay with him whilst I do my morning tasks." Gaius said. "Could you play physician whilst I'm busy?"
Cuffing her nose, Alara nodded. "I'll get some fresh water and keep an eye on him, Gaius."
The elder gravely smiled as he rose and set about his work, leaving out some fresh stitches and needles, a small jar of ointment, and some dry cloths. Whilst he readied himself, he slyly watched as Alara sprang into action, making sure that Mordred's head was correctly propped up, that his arm was secure, and that his mouth was daubed with a wet cloth. Content with the bedside manner, he attended to his patients.
It was noon, and Gaius was still out. Alara had done well for herself to keep busy and pass the time; she had freshened herself up, and hand to borrow some of Merlin's old clothes, despite the fact that they swamped her smaller frame. As the hours passed, she had developed a little routine: once the bell strikes the hour, walk around the chamber, letting her legs get some exercise; every quarter the sun moved, she would daub Mordred's lips with some water, making sure to take some water for herself; and ever three-quarter movement of the sun, she would check the wounds for any sign of infection.
Merlin stopped by to check on the two of them. "How is he?"
"Nothing has really changed." She remarked. "His pulse is still slow and feeble. He doesn't really make much of a fuss."
He could see the concern on Alara's face. I can't tell her this, he thought, it would break her heart into a million pieces. "What happened?"
"We were riding, and I dared a race. I was winning, and then all of a sudden he was on the ground. I don't know what caused his horse to just freeze up like that."
"You were really brave to stay there for that long." Merlin said.
"I was able to sort of shove him onto my horse, and we rode around for hours. I made sure that we stayed in a straight line, but we might have veered off the track once or twice."
Merlin placed his hand on her's, squeezing it tight. "I'm just glad you're safe."
"I'm not the important one here." She sighed. "Mordred is the one who's currently lying in bed with a broken arm and a bashed-in head." Alara picked up the bowl of water. "I need to go and fetch some more. Do you mind?"
He shook his head. "I can keep watch. You go."
Watching her leave, Merlin stared down the paralysed Mordred. He could do it: he could just kill him now, and then all of his nightmares would go away; Arthur wouldn't die and he would reach his destiny of uniting Albion. Merlin pondered on his fate ... would he knowingly commit murder just so that the prophecy wouldn't be fulfilled?
Alara watched over Mordred day and night, caring for him. She was in charge. Gaius allowed her to do so, as for him it meant he could slowly watch the burgeoning love that Alara had for Mordred grow over the hours she spent. A week into Mordred's coma, Alara had requested that he be moved to Merlin's old room, to give Gaius his workshop back. She resided in a make-shift cot next to him, making sure not to be too far away.
Merlin wasn't too happy about the arrangement, but Gaius made the young man to stop worrying as there was always someone to keep and eye on the two young adults.
The other knights would make a point of showing up, bringing food swiped from the kitchens or bringing much needed company to Alara's lonely watch. There was a small pool, started off by Gwaine no less, as to when Alara would admit her feelings for Mordred; he tried very hard to get her to admit it, but she knew his game eventually, and would always skirt the question.
"C'mon, you know it's true. You can't hide from it." He goaded.
Alara rolled her eyes and settled the damp cloth on Mordred's forehead.
Whilst he didn't wake from his coma, the bone looked as if it was beginning to heal; the bruising was beginning to settle, and his arm was looking a normal position. Alara, at the behest of both Gaius and Merlin, went back to caring for the young princes. Both men assured her that he was in the best of hands.
The princes were a handful, but they provided a needed distraction. Gaheris was beginning to learn his letters and numbers, whilst Meilyr was just starting to form words - so far he had 'NO', 'MORE', and 'PLEASE' down pat.
One evening Gwen was helping her settle the two young boys into bed, and she inquired about Mordred. "How is he doing?"
"Still hasn't woken up yet, but the swelling on his head has come down considerably and his arm is almost ready to come out of the binding."
"That's good news, isn't it?"
Alara beamed. "Yes, it really is."
Gwen knew that smile. She's seen Arthur with that same smile hundreds of times. "You love him, don't you?"
"Not you, too."
"What?"
Alara sighed, "Gwaine has this small money pool going of when I'll finally admit that I'm in love with Mordred."
"And are you?"
"I am. I don't want to admit that looking after him these past few weeks has made me realise this, but I am in love with him."
Gwen offered her a seat that the table. "Don't be scared of saying it, Alara. When I first realised I was in love with Arthur, I was frightened. I was a peasant and he was the prince! It was forbidden. We had to hide for a very long time. When I finally got the chance to be called his wife - to be called queen, even - it was the most wonderful feeling. Don't waste that feeling. Let it flow unabashedly."
There was a light knock at the door, and a kitchen maid entered, carrying two plates of food. "Milady, I bought you some dinner, as requested."
Gwen nodded her thanks and started to eat, signalling for Alara to do so as well. "With the time that we have," She said. "I can finally ask you how you've been finding life here in Camelot."
"Wild." Alara replied. "Life in Ealdor is far more tranquil compared to the city."
"Has it met your expectations?"
"Exceeded them."
The two women continued to chat as they ate their food, both regaling stories and idly talking as the time passed.
When Alara returned, Gaius had left Merlin's room. "Gaius? Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine. I've removed the stitches from his head - there will be some minor scarring, but it should be easily covered by his hair."
Alara settled herself next to the bed. "How about his arm?"
"I will give it a few more days, I think. Just to be safe."
She nodded. Gaius could see that something had changed, but he couldn't put his fingers on it. Maybe it was the way she softly laced her hand with his, or the way that she lovingly stroked his hair. He couldn't tell ... Or maybe he didn't want to comment on what he could see.
"Good night, Alara."
"Good night Gaius."
Alara couldn't sleep. She couldn't help but keep a hold of Mordred's hand, couldn't help but softly stroke his head. The confession she made to Gwen filled her with giddy delight as she kept telling herself over and over again that she loved him. She was thinking about how to break it to him, how to tell him once he was awake that she was madly, deeply, and irrevocably in love with him. Looking out to see if Gaius was asleep, Alara smoothed some of Mordred's hair away from his face and gently placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you." She whispered. "By the Gods I love you, Mordred. Please come back to us. To me." She intently watched his face, waiting for any sign of movement or any sign of his eyes moving. But there was nothing. Sighing, Alara settled herself as comfortably as she could, and laid her head down.
Hours had passed. As the sun rose and the light broke through the window, there were stirrings. First, it was the twitch of a finger. Then two. Mordred softly moaned as his mind broke through the haze. He very slowly opened his eyes - the light making them sting. Blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust, he very slowly turned his head to see Alara fast asleep, her arms resting on the frame, providing as a prop for her head. He tried to speak, but his mouth felt dry. Smacking his lips to gain some moisture, he finally spoke - "Alara? What happened?"
