Arthur had expected to die where he'd fallen on the battlefield. He remembered the feeling of the blood draining from his body, how it had made him feel cold and sleepy. On some level, he'd known what that meant. So when he'd blacked out, Arthur hadn't expected to wake up again.
The fact that he was now awake again didn't make any sense. Still, the facts were undeniable. He was warm and his body felt solid. He could feel the blood in his veins and the pain in his abdomen was far too sharp for him to be dead.
He could hear muffled voices around him, but he couldn't quite make out any words. He wanted to know who was talking, but his eyelids seemed too heavy to lift. Arthur could at least sense a flickering light through his closed eyelids. He imagined a simple candle flame. Even if his eyes wouldn't open, the rest of his senses were cooperating. Arthur could tell he wasn't lying on the ground anymore. The surface under him felt more uniform than the ground, as if it were man-made. Arthur assumed it was some sort of bed. He concluded that he was very likely in the medical tent.
Arthur was just thinking again how he'd like to hear what the voices were saying when his mind emptied. Arthur only realized he'd fallen asleep when he woke up again.
The sleep must have done him some good, because Arthur felt even better now than he had the first time he'd awoken. The pain had eased somewhat, and his head was clearer. Arthur tried his eyelids again and found them much more willing to move this time.
At first, the light was too bright, and Arthur closed his eyes almost at once. When he tried again however, his eyes adapted to the light, and he was able to take in his surroundings.
The first thing he saw was Guinevere. If his head hadn't been angled to one side, Arthur wouldn't have been able to see her across the room on his left. She was turned away from him, likely tending to a patient Arthur couldn't see, but just knowing she'd been so close made Arthur feel better. Arthur opened his mouth to speak to her, but only managed a sound he hadn't quite planned. His throat was drier than he'd realized. Even so, it was enough. She turned.
The look of joy on her face at the sight of him awake was the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever seen. She came quickly over to this bed and picked up his hand in hers.
"You had us worried there for a while," Guinevere said, smiling at him. "But Gaius said that as long as you woke up, you'd be okay."
"What happened?" Arthur asked, coughing with the effort of talking.
Rather than reply, his wife reached over for some water and helped Arthur drink it. When she was done, she said, "It's over. We won."
"And Morgana?" Arthur inquired next.
"She's dead."
"How?" Arthur asked. After so many years of defeating her but never managing to vanquish her, Arthur almost couldn't believe her words. Did this mean he really didn't have to fight her anymore? Could this really mean peace at last?
"How do you think?" Guinevere replied, then she gestured to the space behind Arthur, towards the right side of his bed.
Tilting his head the other way, Arthur turned to look, and there slumped in a chair with his eyes closed was none other than Merlin.
"He hasn't left your side since he floated you here," Guinevere explained. "I tried to tell him to get some sleep, but he wouldn't leave. He finally fell asleep in that chair just a few hours ago."
"We would never have won the battle without him," Arthur said softly. Not only was speaking quieter easier on his throat, but he also didn't want to wake the sleeping warlock.
"I know," Guinevere replied. "Even so, he seems to act like he should be able to do more."
"Crazy man," Arthur agreed.
"If he hadn't found you on the battlefield," Guinevere began but her voice was being distorted by emotion. "Gaius said your wounds were beyond his abilities. Without Merlin's healing, you would have died."
"Old news," Arthur smiled at his wife, trying to inject humor into his voice. "Without Merlin, I would be long dead."
She smiled down at him, clearly holding back tears. Arthur wanted to comfort her but didn't know how. He wasn't sure if his arm would move even if he tried to touch her face. She seemed to sense his desires, however, and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his.
No words were needed to express how glad each was to know the other was alive. When the sneak attack had reached the tents, Arthur had feared for Guinevere's safety, and he knew she'd been worried about him. They stayed like that for a long time. Their foreheads touching, just breathing each other in.
When she eventually pulled away, it was to answer Gaius's call to help tend to another patient. Gwen seemed torn, clearly wanting to remain with her husband. Arthur told her she was needed and assured her he'd be here when she got back. Before she left, she leaned down and laid a soft kiss on his lips.
Arthur closed his eyes. He could still feel the gentle tingle where her lips had touched his. He decided to focus on that and not the pain of his wound.
Once again, Arthur woke up not realizing he'd fallen asleep. His body needed to heal, and it was making him rest despite his desire to get up and find out more about what was happening. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the right. Merlin was still sitting in that chair, but his eyes were open now.
"Morning," Arthur told his friend.
"You should be resting," Merlin told him.
"So should you," Arthur argued.
"I'm not the one who got stabbed with a sword," Merlin disagreed.
"No, you're just the one who drained every ounce of your energy to protect and heal me and my knights," Arthur shot back.
Merlin dismissed the compliment with a simple hand gesture. "I'm fine," he said. "You almost died. Sleep."
"I'm the king, Merlin. You can't order me around," Arthur reminded him.
"Never stopped me before," Merlin replied easily.
There was silence for a moment, then Arthur voiced what he'd been thinking since Guinevere had told him of his sister's demise.
"I almost can't believe she's really gone," Arthur said in a soft voice.
"Yep," Merlin said, but his voice wasn't nearly as serious as Arthur's. "Totally gone. That is, so long as there aren't any other high priestesses of the Old Religion out there capable of bringing her back as a puppet shade."
Arthur could tell Merlin was joking just from his tone, but the words made him think of the only time in his life that someone he'd thought dead had returned to him.
"Wait, are you saying that when Lancelot came back—"
"Oh yeah, did I forget to tell you?" Merlin replied casually. "That wasn't Lancelot. It was Morgana, using Lancelot's dead soul as her plaything."
"That means that when I caught him with Guinevere," Arthur continued, but once again he was cut off.
"Yep, that was all Morgana," Merlin replied. "Actually, since Gwen wouldn't give in to her shade, Morgana was forced to put a love spell on Gwen to make it work. She really didn't want you guys to be happy."
"If I had the energy, I'd throw something at you," Arthur grumbled. "Why didn't you tell me that at the time?!"
"You so wouldn't have believed me," Merlin chuckled.
Arthur had to admit, he had a point. Even so, the whole thing made him feel foolish for falling for Morgana's plot.
"Well, you could have told me before now," Arthur tried again.
"I guess," Merlin shrugged. "But it all does seem kinda unimportant now, what with you two happily married and everything."
Arthur just grumbled. He had to admit, Merlin had a point. It was annoying how he seemed to keep doing that. Arthur was the king. He was the one who was supposed to make the good points. If Merlin hadn't just saved his life and his entire kingdom, Arthur would have considered punishing Merlin for such antics. A day in the stocks perhaps? Or would this new magical Merlin not put up with such things anymore? Arthur found himself almost curious. Without the threat of execution hanging over him every time he did magic, would this Merlin magic his way out of such a punishment or put up with it for old times sake?
Just then, Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by Merlin standing up and leaning over Arthur, holding his hand out slightly.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.
"I'm checking on your wound," Merlin said.
Arthur knew Merlin must have been using magic. There were no medical instruments in sight as the warlock hovered his hand over Arthur's sword wound.
"I didn't get to you fast enough," Merlin said as he moved his hand back. "You'd lost too much blood already. If I'd just been a little faster, you'd be healed by now."
"Like when I saw you heal Eylan?" Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded. "That time, I was able to stop the bleeding right away, but I can't put blood back in the body once it's on the ground."
"Good to know there are at least some limits to your power," Arthur smiled at him. "The last thing I need is an omnipotent servant."
His words had the desired effect. Merlin chuckled. "That's a big word," he said, smiling. "For a cabbage head."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh a little, even if it hurt his chest. At least he wasn't coughing anymore, though that didn't stop his overly anxious best friend from making him drink more water. Arthur accepted the water, even if he felt weak doing it. Being bedridden was not his forte.
"When I found you," Merlin began. "Kara and Mordred's body's were right beside you..."
Arthur didn't need Merlin to finish the question. He knew what his friend was asking. Still laying in his bed, but feeling much more like himself than he had in days, Arthur recounted the story.
"That's exactly what I saw," Merlin said slowly when Arthur was finished. "At least the part from when Mordred approached you in anger to when you fell after leaning on your sword."
"Well then, it looks like you can't change prophecy after all," Arthur told him.
"In my vision," Merlin continued. "It was so dark I couldn't actually see what colours Mordred was wearing. It seemed to me at the time that he'd been dressed all in black like he'd changed sides."
"The red on his Camelot clothes were quite covered in blood by the time I saw him," Arthur explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if in the dark it looked black."
"Even so, I had operated under the assumption that Mordred would change sides before he'd try to kill you this whole time," Merlin explained. "I was always waiting to see what would make him turn traitor, but in reality, he was still wearing Camelot colours when he tried to kill you."
"He'd just witnessed me kill the woman he loved," Arthur reminded Merlin. "We can't control who we love. I know that more than anymore. Mordred just couldn't see Kara for what she was." Arthur stopped for a moment as he realized something. "I think in his shoes, I likely would have done the same, if someone had killed Guinevere before my eyes."
"Yeah, but Gwen would never be hateful enough to follow an army for miles just to try and kill someone," Merlin countered.
"As I said, we can't control who we love," Arthur replied softly. "I got lucky."
"I suppose," Merlin shrugged.
"Even if he did turn traitor at the very end, I want Mordred buried with the honour of a Camelot knight," the king said firmly. "Only you and I will know he lost his footing at the end. It seems to me the best way to honour what he did right. One moment shouldn't undo all the loyalty that came before it."
"That's very noble of you, sire," Merlin said. "Now would you please get some sleep so I can stop worrying."
Arthur chuckled but then regretted it as it made his chest hurt. "Fine," he said and closed his eyes.
He heard Merlin's chair legs move against the ground and knew his friend had sat down again.
Even with his eyes closed, Arthur didn't think he'd fall asleep right away. There was too much to think about.
The more he went over it in his head, the more he was happy with his decision to give Mordred a honourable knight's burial. For all the good he did for Camelot, Arthur wanted people to remember Mordred at his best.
Besides, in a way, Arthur owed Mordred; his affection for the young druid knight had actually saved Camelot. After all, it had been Arthur's desire to save Mordred's life that had compelled him to accept magic back into his kingdom. The great irony here was that the punishment he took to save Mordred had turned out to be a blessing while Mordred had been the curse. The thing he accepted as a punishment to protect someone had become that which protected his people while the one he'd been trying to protect had betrayed him. Ironic indeed.
Arthur also couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Merlin hadn't intervened and Kara had been executed in Camelot. Given Mordred's reaction on the battlefield, he knew it would have gone badly. But how badly? Would Mordred have come to kill him right then? Or maybe formed an alliance with his enemies? Arthur supposed he'd never really know, but that was probably a good thing. Dwelling on the past was more Merlin's thing; Arthur was a man of action. Or at least, he'd be so again when he was no longer confined to this bed.
As Arthur's mind started to drift into sleep, he thought maybe the bed wasn't so bad. It definitely wasn't as comfortable as his bed back home, but at least it was off the ground and carefully watched over by the ones he loved the most.
The next time Arthur woke, he could tell at once that he'd been moved. He also sensed that he'd been sleeping longer than either time before. Opening his eyes, Arthur recognized the canopy above his bed back in Camelot. He guessed that Merlin had floated him here to prevent his waking up while they packed up and returned home. Sneaky warlock. How had he gotten Arthur all the way home without waking him?
But that hardly mattered. It was time for the king to get out of bed. Arthur had never been much for being sick, and now that his mind was clear again, he wanted nothing more than to stand on his own two feet.
The realities of this task quickly proved more difficult than made any sense. Arthur could feel that he had enough strength in his limbs to get out of bed, and he could move freely in the bed, but once he got close to leaving it, something stopped him. Arthur collapsed back onto the mattress, confused and frustrated by his lack of success.
Just then, the door opened, and Arthur turned to see his wife walk into the room.
"Oh good, you're awake," Guinevere smiled at him.
"Do you know why I can't get out of bed?" Arthur asked her, skipping the small talk.
"Because you need more rest," she replied.
"No, I mean why can't I physically leave the bed?" Arthur rephrased.
Guinevere sighed. "Your best friend is a worrier of a warlock, and you can't figure that one out?" she asked him with a slight tilt of her head.
"Are you saying Merlin has trapped me here?!" Arthur exclaimed. She nodded. "Oh, he'll pay for this! I feel fine."
"Oh, you do, huh?" Guinevere said with an all too innocent smile on her face as she walked closer to his bed. Gently, but with enough force to prove her point, Gwen put pressure on his wound.
"Ow!" Arthur whined as he collapsed back onto the bed.
"A few more days in bed at least," Guinevere told him. "Or Gaius and Merlin say you'll start bleeding again."
"I'll have them both hung for mutiny," Arthur exclaimed.
"There, there now, lay back," Guinevere said, completely ignoring his empty threat. "And get some rest. I'll be back shortly with soup and something to drink."
Arthur had no choice but to lay down, though he was determined not to fall asleep, because he was totally fine and Merlin was just being ridiculous.
He was quite happy with himself when he managed to stay awake until Guinevere returned with his soup. The problem was that after he ate, it was suddenly a lot harder to stay awake. Maybe a little more rest wouldn't be the worst thing ever.
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What do you think of Arthur's recovery? I tried to throw in some humor. Hopefully you enjoyed it. This chapter and the next two chapters of this story have been written for about a month now but my editor has been really busy.
My husband and I are expecting our first child to be born any day now so I am trying to wrap up as many stories as I can before feeding a newborn takes over my life. Haven't had much luck though. My two other stories are NO WHERE near done. If you are reading those I do apologize. One out of three isn't the best score ever but at least it's something. :)
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Sneak Peek Chapter 19
The funeral pires had been completed the day before and the ceremony was set for that afternoon. So far they hadn't seen any of the problems Gaius had predicted. Merlin suspected that the people of Camelot were so relieved to have it all be over that they were putting up with the king's sentimentality over his half sister's death.
Despite the fact Merlin was to attend a double funeral in just a few short hours, Merlin couldn't help but be cheerful even if he was doing his best to hide that fact. It was over. The prophesied moment had come to pass and everyone he loved was still alive. His friends were happy, magic was accepted and there was peace in the united land of Albion. He'd achieved everything he'd set out to do almost ten years ago. The relief he felt from this reality was more than he knew how to express.
When he arrived at the funeral Merlin took his place standing with the knights as they all surrounded the pires. Morgana's body lay on the pire closest to him while Mordred's body was on the adjacent pire. When Arthur began his speech, silence fell. Even Merlin who knew the truth about Mordred couldn't help but be moved by the king's words and it was more than just Arthur who spoke on Mordred's behalf. A few of the other knights had stories to share about the good times they'd had when Mordred was amoung them.