A/N: I'm glad you guys enjoyed the ending for "Sword and Shield". ^_^ This one is four chapters of Lancelot whump. XD
Chapter 1
Hoarfrost crept up the granite walls, blossoming in clusters like diamond studded flowers. A thin sleet of ice spread across the cave floor, shimmering like pale blue glass. All of which emanated from the regal, unearthly figure seated on a makeshift throne of sculpted ice.
"Have the mortal kings of the land sent their finest knights yet?" she asked.
"Yes, my queen."
"Good." She held up a thin, pointed shard of ice with veins of blue frost crystalized within and handed it to her lead warrior. "May its aim fly true to find the heart of my next king."
Merlin tucked his hands under his armpits and shivered as he trudged through the snow. Winter was not the time to be traipsing around the wilderness, but Camelot had received reports of the villages in the north being raided, so Arthur and his knights had set out to defend the border. If only it wasn't so cold. And it wasn't even proper winter yet by the calendar, but the weather sure wasn't following the prescribed transition of seasons.
Merlin heard a sigh beside him, and then Lancelot was removing his gloves and slapping them against his arm.
"Here."
"I'm okay, really," Merlin replied with a quivering smile.
"Yes, you look it. Why didn't you bring a pair of gloves, anyway?"
"I, uh, don't actually have any."
"How could you not have a pair?" Lancelot asked incredulously.
"I don't make a habit of going hiking in the middle of winter!"
Lancelot shook his head and smacked his gloves against Merlin's arm again. "Just wear them for a short time."
Merlin relented and hastily stuffed his freezing digits into the leather. They were quite warm. Unfortunately, they didn't help with the overall pervading chill seeping through his layers. Not that a bunch of chainmail would have made things any better; no doubt the knights were equally chilled wearing so much cold metal.
Again, this was not the season for overnight outings. Where were these bandits, anyway? There was no sign of them so far, and one would think they'd have to be camped nearby since they'd been raiding the villages along the border repeatedly. Maybe they cleared out once they realized the knights were on their way. Merlin wondered just how long they'd be out here searching…
Percival suddenly stopped in his tracks, posture tense and eyes peeled. Merlin caught a faint flicker of movement in the thicket up ahead just as the large knight shouted,
"Ambush!"
The other knights barely got their blades unsheathed as a bunch of masked figures clothed from head to foot in gray garb came charging out of the chaparral. The strident screech of steel rang out with the meeting of blades.
Merlin scrambled backward, putting enough distance between him and the fight so as to not be in the way but also to be close enough in case he needed to intervene with some magic.
The bandits fought with a grace and fluidity that was surprising and not very characteristic of a bunch of ruffians. But the trained knights of Camelot were able to hold their own, the battle raging in fierce deadlock. Merlin couldn't see an opening for him to subtly turn the tide in their favor.
Then a white arrow came zinging out of nowhere from the thicket and hit Lancelot in the shoulder. The force of the impact flung him backward onto the ground. Merlin ducked his head and uttered a spell to drop some rotted wood on the head of the archer hiding in the trees before he could shoot again. He then snapped his gaze to Lancelot, but he didn't need to worry; Arthur leaped in to cut down the bandit standing over the fallen knight before they could finish him off.
As the first casualty fell, the rest of the bandits seemed almost shocked that it was one of their own. No one shouted a word, and yet they all simultaneously turned to abruptly flee. Then out of the blue, a flurry of snow gusted up in a cloud of white, covering their escape. When it settled, the bandits were gone.
"What was that?" Elyan asked warily.
"Looked like magic," Arthur replied tautly.
It certainly did to Merlin too, but he wasn't going to worry about that just yet. He sprinted to Lancelot, who was propped up on his side with an arrow sticking out of his right shoulder. An arrow that looked to be completely made of ice.
"Easy," Merlin said as he braced an arm behind Lancelot's back and helped him sit upright. The arrow was definitely made of ice, and Merlin stared at it dubiously. Getting it out was going to be tricky.
Arthur waved to Leon and Percival, who grabbed the slain bandit and dragged him a few feet away from Lancelot. Leon then bent down to remove the man's mask, only to recoil sharply.
"Arthur."
Merlin looked away from Lancelot for a moment to see what was wrong. The bandit wasn't actually a bandit at all, or at least not a human one. He had sharp, angular cheek bones and white hair, but also blue skin. He looked like one of the Fae. That would explain the magic with the snow flurries, and maybe even the arrow of ice, but not why they were here attacking villages to begin with.
Lancelot grunted, drawing Merlin's attention back to him.
"I'm going to need help getting this out," Merlin said.
He yanked his neckerchief off and wrapped it around the base of the arrow protruding from Lancelot's shoulder to stabilize it. Unlike with a simple wooden shaft, Merlin wouldn't be able to just snap the end off first.
"Elyan, hold your sword against the shaft here," he directed. "Percival, use the flat side of yours like a hammer on top of Elyan's."
They got into position, and Merlin wrapped his hands around the shaft at Lancelot's shoulder to further hold it steady, because this was not going to be pleasant. Percival cast an uncertain look at their friend, then proceeded to strike Elyan's blade in an attempt to crack the ice so it would break off. One blow wasn't enough, and Percival had to hit it again. Lancelot had his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw visibly clenched as he tried not to cry out. The third strike finally cracked the ice shaft and it broke off.
"Okay, good," Merlin said, removing his neckerchief. "Help me get his chainmail off."
They tried to be gentle, but pulling a heavy mail shirt up over a shoulder with a chunk of ice embedded in it was going to hurt, and they inevitably bumped the shard still sticking out in their efforts. Lancelot immediately started shivering when the only layer he had between his skin and the cold air was his tunic. Elyan unclasped the cloak from the armor they'd just removed and laid it on the frosted ground.
"Lie back," Merlin instructed, helping to guide Lancelot down onto the cloak. He then pulled back the collar of Lancelot's shirt to get a look at the arrowhead. There was only a little blood trickling out of the edges. "Okay, this is going to hurt too," he warned.
Lancelot thunked his head back against the ground with a grunt of resignation. Merlin fumbled at trying to get a grasp on the jagged piece of shaft. He was still wearing Lancelot's gloves, and the thick coverings made it difficult to firmly grab the piece. He yanked one glove off and tried to do it without, but the ice shaft was too cold and slippery.
Merlin rocked back on his haunches with a frustrated huff.
"Should we just melt it?" Gwaine put in.
Merlin shot him a look. "That'll take too long."
"Longer than this?"
"Let me try," Leon said.
Elyan stood up from where he'd been crouched next to Lancelot and Leon took his place. Lancelot's face screwed up as Leon grasped the ice and tried to yank it out, but again he couldn't hold onto it long enough.
"We'll have to cut it out," Leon said.
Merlin pressed his lips into a thin line. He was afraid of that. It was one thing to assist Gaius with these sorts of procedures, but it was another to perform them himself. And on his friend, no less.
Leon drew out a small dagger and held it between himself and Merlin. "Do you want to do it or should I?"
Merlin sometimes forgot Leon had some experience with battlefield medicine.
"Someone do it," Lancelot gritted out. His shivers had worsened, which was only going to make cutting into him that much more difficult.
Merlin held out his hand for the knife. Leon passed it over, then wordlessly gripped Lancelot's left shoulder and right hip to hold him down. Merlin took a breath and angled the blade against his friend's flesh, making a straight cut up from the protruding shaft. Lancelot made horrible choking noises that threatened to shatter Merlin's concentration, but he didn't need to make that large of an incision. Grimacing in regret and revulsion, he reached his fingers into the wound to get a better grasp of the arrow and yanked.
Lancelot finally cried out and jerked as the arrowhead came free. It was already mostly deformed from having started to melt inside Lancelot's shoulder.
Merlin tossed it aside and examined the wound. "Well, the cold at least kept you from bleeding very much," he said.
Lancelot didn't respond to that.
"Will he be all right?" Arthur finally asked.
"The arrow didn't go that deep," Merlin replied. "But his skin is too cold to sew this up. I'll have to make do with binding it tightly and hoping that holds."
Percival handed Merlin one of their supply bags with bandages inside. Leon and Elyan pulled Lancelot upright again and braced him as Merlin packed the wound with linen and then wound a long strip around his torso tightly. Lancelot was still shivering, so they helped him back into his chainmail next for at least a little bit of a buffer against the cold. Then Lancelot picked up his sword that'd been lying nearby and used it to push himself to his feet.
Arthur regarded him carefully. "You good?"
Lancelot nodded.
"Good," Arthur replied. "Because we can't abide these creatures of magic attacking Camelot. Stay sharp," he ordered, then signaled for the troop of knights to head out in the direction the fae had fled.
Merlin's mouth thinned as they set off, Lancelot tucking his right arm against his chest. It needed to be in a sling and he needed to be resting after such an injury. But they were out in the middle of nowhere, and with the fae being their quarry rather than regular ole bandits, Merlin knew Arthur couldn't spare any of his men to accompany Lancelot back to Camelot, not to mention that'd be a long journey for him as well. Lancelot might be okay, since he hadn't lost any blood.
Merlin jolted as he remembered the gloves and hastily went to give them back.
"Thanks for letting me borrow them," he said.
Lancelot glanced over, brow quirked in brief confusion. "You can keep them."
"You're freezing from being shot with ice," Merlin retorted. "You need them more."
"You pulled it out with your bare hands."
Merlin shook his head and slapped the gloves against his friend's chest. "Humor the physician's apprentice."
Lancelot smiled fondly and put the gloves on. "Let's hope they don't have more of those arrows the next time we engage them."
Merlin furrowed his brow. It was a bit strange, actually, that the fae had attacked them openly and then one of them had shot an arrow mid-battle. Maybe they'd realized the knights were an even match for them.
In which case, Merlin definitely needed to keep an eye open for a more covert assault if or when they caught up with their foes…
The queen straightened on her throne as her warriors returned empty-handed. "You dare fail me?" she demanded.
They all stiffly bowed, and her first knight stepped forward.
"One of the mortals carries a weapon capable of slaying us," he reported. "We were forced to retreat."
She hissed at the news and surged to her feet. "What about my shard?"
"It found its mark, my queen. But we were unable to get close enough to grab the mortal, not with the sword that sings of fire."
The queen drew back, forcing herself to calm. "That is all right. There is still time before the winter solstice. The shard will have already begun its work. We will simply wait for an opening to retrieve our prize."
