DISCLAIMER: See other chapters
Notes: Thanks for reading and for the encouraging reviews! Thank you very much! It's good to know sometimes that I'm not just writing for myself. There is still a lot more to cover ..So let's get to it.
CRESCENT
"Tristan...." The words held all the wonderment and shock that he had seen in his friend's faces before, but it also held the same tinge of fear and suppressed horror. They all turned to where Arthur had stopped in mid- stride, standing just outside the circle of light the fire was throwing out into the dark night. Their gazes locked and there seemed to be a silent exchange between the two men that needed no words being spoken. Arthur came forward just as the knights were getting to their feet. He grabbed the smaller man's arms, hugging Tristan to him. Arthur put his hands around his face, looking him over in amazement.
"My friend..." he said roughly, once he had succeeded in suppressing his dark thoughts about how Tristan had been returned to them. Whatever he had feared had not come to pass; there was nothing alien or foreign in the young scout's eyes or demeanour. So Arthur would lock away those fears.... Deep inside his mind and never think of it again.
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He awoke to the sensation of cool water on his skin. Someone was washing his face with a wet, soft piece of cloth. Cool fingers touched his face gently, moving over his skin in caressing lines, smoothing over his eyebrows, his cheeks.....lingering over his lips, carefully smoothing the hair back from his forehead. Almost as if someone was trying to imprint his features in their mind by mere touch.....
At first the sensations felt as though they were reaching him from far away, as though his body and mind had gone numb. But they became clearer, more defined as he was slowly coming back to himself, drifting to the surface from the grasp of sweet, dreamless sleep.
Lancelot's eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes slowly. His vision was blurry for the time his eyes adjusted to the semi- darkness around him, but the clearer his vision became, the clearer became the sight of hazel eyes staring into his. Guinevere leaned over him, blond hair framing her beautiful features, her warm hand resting on his forehead, her breath mingling with his.
"Lancelot ...." She whispered, breath caught in her throat. Her eyes rested on his face and for one breathless, powerful moment they stared into each others eyes from up close, before she blinked in realization and turned her head towards something beyond his line of vision.
"He's awakened......He's awake ...." The relief and excitement in Guinevere's voice were there for everyone to hear. There were steps, the rustling of clothing and an unknown, soothing voice from a few feet away.
"Fetch Arthur ...."
Guinevere looked back at her for a moment, her face beautiful set in a smile that managed to be both pleased and bitter- sweet. She let her eyes wander over Lancelot again as she looked back to the bed once more before hurrying to bring the news of his recovery to his friends.
Morgianna could feel the young woman's parting look glide over the knight like a caressing hand. Guinevere was no schemer, no actress schooled in deceit and trickery. Her lively features could not contain pretence; they betrayed her emotions like a mirror.
There was such tenderness in her gaze that it stole Morgianna´s breath.
The room almost dark, but for the warm light of the fire. She felt, more than heard his unrest, his belligerent attempt to sit up on his bed.
"Don't struggle ...it will only become harder, give it time." She said softly, walking over to the bedstead after reaching blindly for the earthen jug and cup from the table. She sat it both down on the floor next to the bed, helping him lean his back against the wall. He looked at her in confusion and suspicion. Morgianna met his rain-grey eyes with her calm, controlled expression....looking into the face she had seen so many times before and finding it handsome.
If he would have died, she would have never seen his face fill with hesitation and impatience, and yet .....Looking at him made her chest tight.
Lancelot had to try twice until he could force the words from his dry throat.
"What happened?"
"You were hurt ...obviously." She answered, avoiding his inquisitive stare while she picked up the jug, filling the cup.
"Can you drink?" He stared at her as though she had challenged him. It did not make him less attractive Morgianna noted against her will, the anger and indignation only served to make his eyes blaze in defiance. Anger and frustration simply made his handsome looks more fetching.
Lancelot ....the rogue, the fighter, the seducer ....now she could see why and it made her heart ache. He took the cup, making the effort to conceal that his hands were shaking from exhaustion and weakness. Morgianna´s head turned to the door in a quick, sudden movement that unnerved Lancelot. She looked at the closed door as though listening for something. Still holding the jug, she rose to her feet in a fluent motion. The grace in it caught Lancelot unaware and made him take a closer look at her when she stepped away from the bed. There was something about this woman that irritated him, even though he was unable to define it or put into words what bothered him. There was something familiar about her, the way she moved, the distant look in her eyes......
On the one hand he could have sworn that until this day their paths had never crossed. She was not beautiful enough to have ever struck his fancy, though he would remember seducing her ....he never forgot his conquests, however brief they might be. On the other hand she was recognizable none the less. She had an air about her that struck a cord of memory in him .....Her regal demeanour, something about her eyes, her features was just not right ...
The door burst open with a loud bang and Bors stormed into the room with Gawain and Galahad on his heels, his eyes wide, his voice loud as thunder.
"Gods save you Lancelot! " he laughed as he grabbed the other man's face in his hands, pressing a sound kiss on Lancelot's curly head.
"You, my friend, would have made for a very ugly corpse!" Gawain told him, his broad smile proof of how pleased he was with his friend's recovery. The other two laughed in unison as Tristan strode through the door after them, nodding an almost imperceptible greeting to the woman who had retreated into the far away corner of the room, to give his friends more space.
" You'd better stay alive and watch that pretty face of yours!" bellowed Bors.
Lancelot managed a grin, still cradling the now empty cup in his hands.
"The one your lady love is so fond of?"
Bors stared at him for a moment, then burst out into another bout of laughter. He nudged Galahad´s side with his elbow hard enough to knock the air from the younger man's lungs.
"Cheats death once and already back to his old ways!"
" You must be feeling well indeed to taunt Bors like that again." Galahad chimed in, rubbing his ribs as he tried to put some distance between himself and Bors´ elbow.
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"This we will agree on Merlin....and there will not be argument or discussion about it." Arthur said severely, rising from his chair.
"Pray to whomever you like. I will no less force my beliefs upon you and your people as I have enforced them on my knights .....But what you have done with Tristan, you will never do again!"
"I gave you back a friend ..." Merlin reminded Arthur. He looked at him, nodding. His voice took on an even more grave tone.
"I know and I will not forget it, but it will never be done again. I'll have you swear to that."
"You might have need of my arts if ..."
"No ifs ..." Arthur shook his head, raising his voice. "You want me to lead, then follow me in this. You want me to be king? Then I will command this of you....."
Merlin stared at him for a few heartbeats and a satisfied, triumphant smile came to his lips as Arthur realised what he had said. They both looked at each other and Merlin nodded his head again, bowing ever so slightly towards Arthur.
"As you command it shall be .....My liege...."
Arthur opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Guinevere who threw open the door. She looked at him, her eyes wide, and a wild joyous smile on her pretty face.
" He's awakened!" she said breathlessly.
It was all it took for answer to swallow his words.
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She stood off to the side, half shrouded by the darkness and watched it all with her dark, observant eyes. The fire- shadows gave her face a haunted look as they moved across her face, but in the blink of an eye it was gone, as though an invisible hand had wiped her features clean of emotion and all that remained was her serious, distanced expression.
This was the moment she had dreaded for all this time.... She half- turned away from the bed, where the knights were jesting and laughing with relief over Lancelot's recovery. Closing her eyes and took a deep breath.
" Here ...why don't you put that pretty face to a better use and thank the lady whose craft and capable hands saved your sorry life! Maybe you can charm her ...." Bors rumbled, his voice still filled with laughter.
Their heads turned while their eyes sought her out, all except Tristan. Without a word, or looking over his shoulder to see if she was indeed still in the room, his arm reached back and he held his hand out to her. Morgianna took the offered hand and slowly stepped into their midst.
"I owe you my life?" Lancelot enquired with an edge of doubt in his voice.
She shook her head, looking at each of them in turn.
"You owe me nothing. What I did, I did for love of my brother...."
"And I will always hold you dear, because you returned my dearest friend to me." Arthur said quietly, coming through the door with Guinevere at his side. Morgianna turned to look into her brother's face, his voice sounded choked even though he tried his best to hold in check. His eyes were so very bright, that she knew it was uncried tears that made them shine. He took her hand, kissing it before he leaned forward to place another kiss on her brow.
His knights stepped aside and Lancelot pursed his lips, embarrassed now that everybody was making such a fuss over his survival.
"Did you think you would get rid of me this easily?" he asked Arthur, making light of the situation. " It takes a lot more than a legion of Saxons to get me off your back, my friend."
Morgianna watched her brother laugh as he sat down on the edge of the bed. She turned and left the room, walking with fast, long strides until she was outside. There she laid her head back, deeply inhaling the cool night air, while she looked up at the stars.
She did not hear Tristan approach with the soundless movements of a seasoned scout, but she felt the brush of air as he came to stand next to her. He did not say a word, just watched her, studying her profile, the outline of her tall, straight frame against the night, every intake of breath. Her expression was composed, serene ....not giving off any trace of what might weigh on her mind.
This was what she did, he understood. She had been trained to not make her face or body a mirror of her emotion, trained to be unreadable and completely removed from others. It was her fortress, her stalwart.....her protection. She could lie with her body and face ....maybe even with magic. Only her eyes betrayed her sometimes......holding her feelings like a cup filled to the brim.
"I cannot escape who I am .....Just like you could not choose your own end." She finally said quietly, without looking at him.