Healing Touch

The battle was finally over. It was won, if you could call it won… The knights of the Tower were dead, say for the ones who'd been locked in the dungeons by Selices. Caradoc and Turquine, however, had escaped in the confusion angrier than ever before. They had left with a vow that they would be back, that this wasn't over, that forever they would curse their newfound enemies' names. The students and teachers all staggered out of that place, drained and weak but alive. Injured definitely, some quite badly at that—mostly the older students who'd been on the front lines so to speak, students under eighteen hadn't seen much for fighting playing backup and all—but right now that was the least of their concerns…

Bleoberis carried Agravaine's body in his arms. Perhaps body wasn't the right term. Body implied the boy was dead. He wasn't… Yet… The blazing hot swords that had impaled him had cauterized the wounds also. Of course, not enough to save him, not likely, but enough to buy him a few more minutes.

Bleoberis laid the dying boy down on the grass. His eyes were shut. He'd slipped into unconsciousness. Mordred, tears burning his eyes, crawled up to Agravaine and sniffed, cuddling close to his big brother's body. Loholt cuddled against the other side, sobbing. Ywain, Yvain, Constantine, and Galeschin stood back, tears in their eyes. Agravaine stirred slightly, but it almost seemed like he was afraid to awaken. "You're safe, Agravaine. You're out," Gawain cooed reassuringly, voice breaking.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have-have let you go alone," Gaheris said, reaching out and combing his fingers gently through his sibling's hair in a coaxing manner… It was what father did… Whenever they were very ill and too weak to want to move… Lot wasn't here to be the pillar of strength this time, though.

Agravaine moaned slightly. Gaheris withdrew his hand. Agravaine's eyes flickered open confusedly. "You should have stayed away…" Servause quietly said to him, voice breaking. "I-I didn't want-want this t' happen."

Agravaine frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? You're acting like I'm…" he began. He trailed off, paling. His hands automatically went to the two gaping wounds from which blood still flowed. "Dying…" he finished. "I… Am I…? I'm dying…" he realized.

"Yes," Bagdemagus softly said. Agravaine was quiet, blinking. Kay bowed his head low, as did many of the others.

"You know, it's… it's not as… as bad as I thought it would be…" Agravaine said, voice surprisingly even and calm. Arthur swallowed dryly. If Agravaine truly felt that way, he was a braver man than him.

"There has to be something we can do, anything!" Geraint insisted.

The teachers were silent. "It's a rare thing when students die during their time at Worcestershire… But it's happened…" Pellinore numbly said.

"And it never gets any easier… Especially not in those instances when these questions must be asked of them…" Caradoc Briefbas said.

"What questions?" Dinadan asked, numbly staring at Agravaine.

"Ones that no child should ever have to answer," Bors the Elder said, protectively squeezing the shoulders of his sons. Pellinore cleared his throat and went to his little brood quietly, just to be near them. Ector pulled Arthur and Kay closer. Even Bagdemagus suddenly seemed much more interested in watching over his son Meleagant, who gave his father a vulnerable look before turning to look at Agravaine again.

"Ask them," Agravaine finally whispered, willing back tears.

No one moved to reply. Finally, though, Meliot stepped forward. "You will not make it home alive. Not likely… And if that's the case, Morgause and Lot will not be able to… to arrange this… What sorts of flowers do you want at your funeral?" he asked, hating the question.

"There won't be a funeral!" Gareth practically screamed in tears. "There can't be! There can't!"

"I don't care," Agravaine numbly said. He couldn't feel his body… "Maybe chrysanthimums…"

"The music?" Meliot gently asked. He had had to do this too many times already… Gods, please. Do not let this boy join the names of the others…

Agravaine was quiet. He glanced over at Lamorak, Tristan, and Palamedes. All three felt their hearts drop. "Will you play and sing, Lamorak, Tristan…?" he questioned. Arthur was stunned at how calm and maturely Agravaine was taking this. Did he not realize what was happening to him?

"Yes," Lamorak answered, voice breaking.

"Yes," Tristan repeated, voice tired and drained and sad.

"And Palamedes, you will help compose a song? Don't be too rough," Agravaine said.

"Yae… And the song shall speak no ill of the dead…" Palamedes answered, feeling a burning sensation in his eyes.

"Don't be that flattering," Agravaine wryly replied.

"Where… where would you like to be buried…?" Meliot questioned. Agravaine blinked blankly.

Buried, buried, buried…

It hit him… Buried… He wouldn't survive… He wouldn't come back! "I was always partial to Avalon… But then that's a King's resting place, isn't it…? Not a place fo… for traitors…"

Arthur, tears burning his eyes, clenched his teeth angrily and his fists. Suddenly he stepped forward. "And you'll have a king's burial. For what you did, for trying to correct your mistake, for saving Servause's life… You aren't the villain, Agravaine. You're the hero. You're the hero, and you'll damn well be buried like one…" Arthur declared. Agravaine looked up at his Uncle, slightly taken aback. Also a little touched.

"Uncle…?" he asked, unsure he'd heard right.

"Avalon will welcome you by the time I'm done… You won't have a traitor's grave. I swear it…" Arthur promised.

"Arthur?" Lancelot said in shock. That was… wow… He… He'd acted like a king… Like really, really acted like a king.

"You didn't think about yourself or how you could benefit or how you were suffering… Your order was selfless…You've spoken like a ruler…" Galehaut said, meeting Arthur's eyes steadily.

Arthur felt like retorting, but he also felt oddly flattered. Now wasn't the time to think of himself, though. He turned back to Agravaine. "You will have a king's burial," he repeated.

Agravaine suddenly sobbed. "I don't want to die, I don't want to die! Don't let me die!" he screamed in fear, writhing desperately. His brothers did all they could to hold him still. "I don't want to die!"

"Dammit! Not this time," Carados sharply and suddenly said, immediately moving forward and desperately trying to tend to Agravaine's wounds. It was in vain, he knew. Without some sort of magical power, it was all in vain. "Stay with us, Agravaine! Stay with us!"

Lancelot blinked and swallowed tightly. "I… I don't know if this will work…" he said softly. They turned to him. He shook his head and approached, kneeling by Agravaine. "Nimue, hear me. Spare him… Please, spare him…" he said out loud, calling upon the Lady of the Lake. They didn't know her, but he did. He and a choice few others… Namely his cousins Lionel and Bors and his brother Hector… all of which looked meaningfully at him and nodded…

"The Lady of the Lake?" a voice asked in a shocked breath.

Lancelot looked quickly over and gasped, seeing an elf standing at Morholt's side dressed in Dolorous armor! Or lackthereof. The fact he was an elf explained his knowledge of the Lady of the Lake. Morholt's near presence to him told Lancelot that for whatever reason, this particular Dolorous Elite was protected. He'd worry about arguing that decision later. First Agravaine. He looked back at the boy. "Nimue, please… hear me…" he pled again.

No response, for a moment, but then he heard Brunor whisper something under his breath. Lancelot looked over. There, in the mist, a woman appeared, walking towards them barefoot and looking like an apparition. They gasped and began to back away murmuring uneasily, say for those who knew of her. She approached the dying Agravaine and looked down upon the boy. Lancelot rose slowly. "You wish to spare a betrayer… He will not return this favor to you, child," she said to Lancelot.

Lancelot winced and looked down at Agravaine. "Maybe not in an equal way, but in smaller deeds he will… He always does… Please…" he answered.

The Lady of the Lake stared at him quietly, then looked back to the boy. "The Round Table will fall… He will play a role in its demise," she said.

Constantine tugged Arthur's tunic. "Uncle, what's the Round Table?" he asked.

"Don't know, but I like the sound of it," Arthur replied.

"Shh," Percival hissed at them.

"Just heal him," Lancelot begged. "I'll take my chances."

The Lady of the Lake tilted her head at her adoptee, then turned back to the dying boy whose side he stood at. "Very well," she finally answered. She waved her hand over Agravaine gently and softly started to hum a melancholy tune. Almost immediately the wounds began to heal. They watched on in shocked disbelief as they started to close up. She didn't heal him fully, whether she couldn't or just chose not to who could say, but she healed him enough. Enough that Carados and Gawain still had a chance to bring him back… "The rest is for you to do," she said. With that she vanished.

"Who was that?" Ermind asked.

"Someone," Lancelot vaguely answered. Sir Meliot watched after her silently and solemnly. Lancelot looked back at Agravaine, now unconscious again. Immediately Carados began to tend him once more, determined to keep the boy alive by any means necessary. He did not want to be the one telling Lot that one of his sons had been killed. It was going to be hard enough bringing Agravaine back to him in stable condition.

"I know of a plant that can help," Selices spoke up. All eyes went to him, now, as if seeing him for the first time. He immediately felt like he'd made a mistake and now stood in the middle of hostile territory…

KAK

"Who is this?" Mordred darkly asked, glaring at the elf who was dressed as an enemy.

"I don't know," Morholt replied. "Agravaine called him Selices and seemed quite concerned about his welfare, so I assume he's a friend of your brother's."

"What kind of friend?" Gareth dryly asked, looking his apparel over dubiously. Selices flinched.

"That's Agravaine's to answer," Morholt replied. He turned to the elf. "You know of a plant that will help him, you say?" Selices nodded.

"Then find it. Bring it back to me as soon as you can," Carados said. "We'll get Agravaine to our camp and…"

"There will be patrols outside the tower, in the woods," Selices said in warning. "Turquine and Caradoc will seek them, and then battle will open anew… I'll go alone. It will be safer that way. I am still their ally, as far as they know."

"As far as we know too," one of the more suspicious students replied. Selices shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

Arthur watched the elf carefully, examining him. He inwardly winced to see the clipped ears. What had this guy gone through here, at the hands of the giants…? He shifted, considering the options. "I… I think we should give him a chance," he said.

"What?" Gareth asked, shooting a dark look at his uncle.

"We don't have a choice. It might cost Agravaine his life if we don't. If he doesn't come back, we're no worse off than we already are. We can't risk moving Agravaine, so even if this Selices leads the patrols to us, it wouldn't even matter. They'd have come back eventually anyway. Without that plant, Agravaine's screwed and we'll probably be too. At least this way there's a chance," Arthur said. There was silence, the students and teachers all looking uncomfortably at one another. Arthur turned to Selices. "Go. Just… just hurry. Please."

Selices, grateful for the vote of confidence, nodded, racing away to search the forest for the plant. They watched after him as he disappeared. "We should leave," Bedivere finally said. "We can move Agravaine if we're careful, but we can't be here when he comes back. He'll bring his allies with him, and probably Caradoc and Turquine. Even if he doesn't, the giants are going to come back like Arthur said. We don't want to be hanging around when they do."

"Anyone who wants to go can go, but I'm staying right here," Arthur stubbornly replied.

"As am I," Gawain said. Whatever it took to save his sibling. Carados grunted in unspoken agreement as well, busily focused on tending to some of Agravaine's many, many other wounds.

"What did they do to him?" Loholt asked, tears burning his eyes as he stared at Agravaine.

"Flogged him, beat him, injured his head, dehydrated him, chilled him," Caradoc answered. And stripped him… But that went without saying. No one had wanted to acknowledge that yet, for fear of what else might have been done in the wake of stripping him.

Agravaine began to stir again. His eyes flickered weakly open. "I'm-I'm alive?" he mumbled weakly.

"For now," Carados confirmed.

"And you'll stay that way," Dagonet added.

"Wh-where's the elf? Wh-where's Selices?" Agravaine asked, becoming concerned.

"He's gone to find a plant that he says might help," Gawain soothed gently. "He's alright… Who is he, Agravaine?"

Agravaine grimaced, looking a little uncomfortable at the question. "I… I don't know… Caradoc and Turquine's best fighter, I think, among their most elite… When his name was whispered in those halls, guards got out of the way like being in his path would mean death… I don't know how an elf ended up in that place with his ears clipped, and I don't think I want to know, given the armor he wears."

"Which is none," Gareth put in.

"Yeah. That's some serious bongage crap he's got going on there," Dinadan said, grimacing.

"How did you get on his good side?" Astomar, Alymere, asked. "I mean, no offense but your track record for making friends isn't great."

"Bite me," Agravaine replied. He fell silent. "When I feel like I can talk again, I'll tell you… Right now I just feel sick… And tired…" They let it go, giving him the chance to rest.

"Can he be trusted?" the suspicious student asked warily.

"I think he can," Agravaine replied.

KAK

Selices crept through the forest silently, keeping his ears open for any sounds of nearing patrols. He'd had to turn one patrol away from returning to the tower already. Time was running short. Agravaine needed to be taken from that place as soon as possible and brought where it was safe. Certainly safer than at the Dolorous Tower. Turquine and Caradoc would not be away from it long… They'd return with all those they could find along with them. A large part of their force had been wiped out, but they had more still.

He reached a stream and climbed a tree, looking towards a plant growing behind a small waterfall on a rock. He crept over the branch then reached out, taking hold of it and removing the petals and leaves. They were all he'd need, and it would grow those back in time. He tucked them away and quickly made his way out of the tree and back to the others. He almost expected them to have left. He knew they didn't trust him. He was a little surprised, honestly, to find them still there, anxiously waiting. He made his way to them. They saw him and went still, watching warily. He felt scrutinized but tried to ignore it, bringing the plant to Carados.

"Thank you," the man said, taking it from the elf. Selices nodded, glancing uneasily around and folding his arms self-consciously.

"Will you people stop looking at him like he has two heads?" Agravaine testily demanded. Selices looked quickly at him, surprised to see him conscious. His eyes had been closed, so he'd thought the boy was still out of it. "I'd be in a lot worse shape than this, and probably dead, if not for him." A bit shamed at this, they turned away.

"Thank you," Selices said quietly. He looked to Arthur, who'd thus far seemed about the only one willing to give him a shot at trust, and said, "I… I know a safe place you can go to tend him. Until Caradoc and Turquine's wrath dies down and you can safely move him. It's a glade, surrounded by cliffs, serene and peaceful and protected. It's not too far for you to risk moving him to. You can't stay here."

Arthur hesitated, unsure about moving Agravaine, but then nodded in agreement. "Okay," he said.

"I can't believe this," one of the other students said with a scoff, the suspicious one again.

"Down, Gautere," Banier warned.

"You have a better idea?" Arthur challenge. Gautere rolled his eyes but didn't answer. Arthur looked at Selices. "Show us," he said. Selices nodded.

KAK

The elf led them into the quiet glade, warily keeping alert in case any patrols happened to pass near by them. They lay Agravaine down, the boy unconscious again, and sat to tend him and wait until the pressure was off. Selices climbed up the cliffs towards an opening in the rock, and perched in it, keeping an eye on things. It wasn't long before two of the students joined him, probably sent by their teaches to make sure he didn't alert their enemies to their location. He glanced at the duo curiously.

"Well met, friend elf," one said. One with darker skin than most of the others.

Selices tilted his head at the two. The one who hadn't spoken stared at him quietly. After a moment he replied, "Well met."

"Thine name is Selices?" the dark one asked. Selices was quiet, but soon nodded. "'Tis all mine pleasure to maketh thine acquaintance, friend. I am Palamedes, son of King Esclabor."

Selices was quiet. He looked inquisitively at the other. "Lamorak, the son of King Pellinore," that other said.

Selices nodded. He looked back out towards the forest. "I'm going to go back," he soon said.

"Where?" Lamorak asked.

"The Tower," Selices replied.

The two were quiet. "Friend elf, you…" Palamedes began.

"I'm not going to betray you to them," Selices cut off.

Palamedes and Lamorak was quiet. "Selices, thou canst not go back to them. Thou hast become a traitor to the giants."

"They'll kill you," Lamorak agreed. Selices looked surprised that this was their concern. He stared at them like he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "Come with us. You're a dead man walking if you go back."

Selices was quiet. Soon he looked away. "They won't. I'm too valuable to them… My return will turn their anger from you… You can escape…"

"They shall not let thee go unpunished," Palamedes protested.

"No. They won't," Selices confirmed. Palamedes looked over him and winced, glancing away. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask how they would punish him.

"Friend elf, we'll make it out without your sacrifice," Lamorak said. "A kingdom isn't far from here. Arthur's. The one who's been taking your side."

"Verily. All will be well if thou wouldst just trust us," Palamedes said. "If not us, then the ones who hath trusted thee."

Selices was quiet. "Very well," he finally answered.

KAK

Selices returned to the othes with Lamorak and Palamedes. Pellinore was scribbling a letter on some parchment, frowning to himself. Selices looked curious. Pellinore, feeling the elf's eyes on him, looked up and offered a wry smile. "Can you perchance communicate with animals like others of your kind? Agravaine's father, Lot of Orkney, is in this region of Brittania somewhere. I need to get this letter to him. He must know what befell his son. He can meet us in Far Far Away, then Lot can bring Agravaine safely home where he can heal."

"I can," Selices said.

"Good. Thank you," Pellinore said. He looked at the message and grimaced. "I'm not looking forward to facing the man." He folded it up.

"He is fierce?" Selices asked.

"He can be," Pellinore confirmed, standing. Selices nodded and looked towards the trees. He began to whistle towards them until finally a bird flew to him, perching on his arm. He smiled a bit ruefully and reached out, stroking its head. He whispered softly to it as it preened its feathers. The bird trilled then flew to Pellinore, snatching the note from his hand and flying away at a rapid pace. "You're handy to have around," Pellinore said, smirking at the boy. Selices wasn't meeting his eyes. He examined the elf quietly. "Bors, will you come here please?" he said, looking towards his fellow king. Bors, watching quietly, approached like he'd been expecting this. "How about you help Selices get a bit more comfortable?" Selices winced a bit at the choice of words. Bors gave Pellinore a warning look. Pellinore winced and sheepishly moved away from them.

Bors watched him go then turned to Selices, observing him quietly. "You have a… unique style to your dress," he soon remarked. Selices was quiet, staring at the bands about his arms. Bors examined them quietly. There were rings on them… Rings though which chains could be fastened… "For how long have you lived in the Dolorous Tower?" he finally asked. Silence. "Are you hungry?" Bors asked, trying another approach. Selices glanced over. "Come, sit," Bors said, gesturing for him to take a seat on a rock. After a moment, he did so. Bors sat near him and took some food from his rucksack. Berries wrapped in cloth. "I gathered them in the forest," Bors said. After a moment the elf took them and began to tentatively eat. He closed his eyes at the first bite, shivering like he hadn't tasted such sweetness in longer than he cared to remember. He ate them slowly like he believed he would never get the chance to again and wanted to enjoy them to the full. Bors quietly considered how to breach the elf's shell. It wouldn't be easy, if the elf had lived the sort of existence he expected he had. He looked around at the others. Brandelis was watching. His eyes hadn't left the elf once… Rather, the elf's bands and collar…

"How old are you?" he asked after a time.

Silence. "Fifty, thereabouts," the elf finally replied. Bors inwardly grimaced. Older than any of them, technically, but then elves didn't age the same.

"In human years?" he pressed.

Selices shifted. "I am not sure," he finally answerd. "Eighteen, maybe?"

Bors nodded. "A good age," he said. He looked at him. "You're very young, to be an elite in their army."

"Elfin blood and training aided in that," he answered. "And… and I was trained also in their army from when I first came to them…"

Bors nodded. "You chose to go with the giants then?" he asked. Selices' jaw twitched. He let out a breath, bowing his head and closing his eyes. "So you didn't…" Bors didn't press further. The elf would speak if he chose to.

"I… I was stolen," Selices finally said.

Bors hummed. "You're away from them now. You can go home," he said.

Selices was quiet. "I can never go back," he finally replied. Bors gave him a curious look. "They won't… they won't accept me."

"Selices…" Bors began.

"They don't accept me," the elf cut off, fingers going subconsciously to his clipped and marred ears. Bors was quiet. He didn't like that word 'don't'. "Caradoc and Turquine told me they wouldn't… And they were right… They took me when I was small, ten or less in human years, thereabouts. They kept me there and they clipped my ears and filed my teeth, but I kept insisting I would get away and I would go home… And they told me they wouldn't accept me back. I would be rejected… I was imperfect now…" His fingers gripped at his ears again before he pulled them away in frustration. "I said they were wrong. They let me go to prove it… I found the elves again… And they saw me from afar, but they wouldn't come. Not even when I called to them. Not even when I begged… I was imperfect… Marred… They turned their backs on me and left me behind without a word. Rejected. Alone… Caradoc and Turquine found me. They told me I had no home anymore. Home was with them now… And they were right… I didn't belong among mortals, I was rejected among elves… There was only the Dolorous Tower…"

Bors felt there was more not being said, but he wouldn't press for information beyond what had been shared already. It was probably hard enough for the elfin boy to say this much. "Pehaps if you made petition to the elf king…" he finally began.

"The elf king was the one who turned his back with all his company," Selices said quietly.

Bors was quiet. Finally, he reached into his bag, taking out fruit, and gave it to him to eat. Selices took it gratefully, looking a little bit relieved to have gotten that out. Bors patted his shoulder and rose, going towards Pellinore. Pellinore glanced over as the councillor came. "I proposed to you, a while back, setting up a support group for… Well, you know what for… Have you given it thought?"

Pelllinore was quiet. "It can't be carried out conventionally. You know that," he soon said.

"I know," he replied. "But the more children and young men and women who come to me with those sorts of stories, the more I see how much it's needed. There doesn't have to be a discussion, there doesn't have to be anything. I just want them to know they aren't alone…"

"How many in this group with us right now do you know of off the top of your head?" Pellinore asked after a moment.

"Three beyond any doubt now. Four possibles. Still more suspected," Bors replied.

"The world is sick," Pellinore bitterly said. Bors snorted in agreement. "Do what you think is best, when we return to the school." Bors nodded. "What do you need?" Pellinore asked.

"Just one who's willing to open up to the others," he answered. "But one thing at a time. Right now, getting out of this forest and putting Agravaine into his father's arms is the most important thing."

"Agreed," Pellinore replied.