Chapter 12
A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long, but I really had problems to write this one as, unlike the rest of the chapters, I hadn't written it beforehand and never seriously planned what had to be done. I only knew how it would end and what it would cause... But I will stop right there to not give you too many hints what's going on. Anyway, I apologize for the short chapter and its lack of dialogue as well as the long wait.
The next one will be far more interesting, I promise.
We had been riding for hours and, by now, were soaked through. The fair, warm weather had suddenly turned against us with heavy fog and cold rain, causing me to have another headache and really bad temper. The thin summer garments weren't enough at all to keep us warm. My cloak was weighting heavily on my shoulders.
No one felt like talking any more. We had started as soon as there was light, meaning, in the first rays of the sun we rode out of the castle yard, but of course we had been awake before that, getting dressed, packing provisions, and lots of other small things one only remembers a few minutes before actually starting on a quest.
With weary eyes I looked around, trying to pierce the fog, looking for anything that might pinpoint the Queen's location.
We had started under a clouded heaven, back where we had found Percival and Gwen's horse. Going from where we had lost her, we made circles, searching the ground and bushes for any sign of a person coming through. Percival, against Gaius' explicit advice, had joined us and, at first, this had seemed like a good thing, because he had found a simple, broken twig and even a shoe-print in the moss, a trace we could follow.
After two years of getting to know the knight's tracking abilities, I wholly trusted him to find her.
But after only two hours of sleep at average for us all, we were tired, short-tempered and stressed. As the hours went by, it became obvious that Percival's condition worsened. He was shivering even more than us, swaying gently when on horseback and barely able to walk when on ground. But still, he wouldn't stop dismounting and looking for the little, hidden hints where the Queen could've gone to, always finding a small sign of her, but getting weaker and paler every time he got back up on the horse.
Looking at Arthur's determined face, I wasn't too sure he would allow the knight to stop even if he wanted to.
When it got too dark to find any traces any more, we made camp. It was still raining, all the blankets were wet and even Merlin's hidden powers couldn't keep a fire burning for long, at least not without appearing suspicious.
It was a miserable night. I was exhausted and still felt hungover, but I never really slept, only dozed away for a few minutes, then snapped awake again at the slightest noise.
When I relieved Elyan from watch, I was almost thankful because now I could walk around to keep warm and stop to try forcing myself to sleep.
Percival was supposed to keep watch for the last two hours of the night, but when I walked over to wake him, he was asleep, and I hadn't the heart to wake him. He would need all his strength on the next day – or longer, if until then we hadn't found Gwen.
In the first light of the new morning, the rain finally stopped and the sun came out again, but she was weak and before our clothes had a chance to dry, she was hidden behind grey, dark clouds again.
We were getting on really slowly, Percival in the lead, dismounting time and time again to check if we were still on the right path, Arthur directly after him with a firm expression, Merlin, as always, beside him. Even he was less chatty than normally. Leon and Gwaine followed after them, and then Elyan and me. We were riding metres apart to survey a bigger area.
When another shower poured down on us, Percival turned round to Arthur and shook his head silently, finally admitting his defeat. He had lost the track and the rain had destroyed what little hope we should have lost the day before already.
For a moment, the King's eyes narrowed and I thought he might do something crazy, but then he hung his head, nodding. His command to turn back was almost too low to hear.
On the morning after the second night, halfway back to Camelot, Percival wouldn't wake up, no matter what Merlin tried. The knight's condition was alarming, but even though we tried to take him back to the citadel as fast as we could, we were forced to spend a third night in the woods, this time lucky enough to find a cave and escape another heavy downpour in the middle of the night.
Finally, four days after we set out, we returned to Camelot, weary, tired, with a sick knight and otherwise empty hands. The mood was more than just low, as one might imagine.
But, to our immense surprise and Arthur's unfathomable joy, Guinevere hastened over to us as soon as we rode into the castle yard. The Queen threw her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him, unusually unceremoniously compared to how she normally behaved, and he seemed to melt under her touch, smiling and laughing afterwards.
While Gwaine and Merlin hurried off to Gaius' with Percival on a stretcher, Elyan and I stayed with the King to hear Guinevere's story.
When the Saxons attacked us, she and Percival had turned in the other direction to escape. While fleeing, the knight had been pitched by his horse. When Gwen had stopped to check if he was all right, a stray Saxon had jumped her and taken her with him.
She had been his prisoner for two days, but, lucky for her, on his way back to his leader, they had run into a Camelot patrol.
It turned out that we must've passed them by closely on the third day, but due to the rain muffling most sounds and the ever returning, thick fog, we hadn't noticed them.
As soon as was convenient, I retreated to Gaius' chamber to retell the story to Merlin and Gwaine, both of whom had already been given a check-up by a worried Gaius, who thought that we might all fall ill, resembling a mother hen rather than a court physician, but we appreciated it.
In the end, only Arthur had a cold for a few days, blaming Merlin (who really hadn't done anything), and Gwaine stated he had a sore throat – but, as always, he cured himself with more than just one pint.
As Percival made a speedy recovery as soon as he was out of the rain and had been told Gwen was safely back, no serious harm had been done.
Well.
At least that's what I thought. Turned out I had never been so wrong.
