Chapter 20 Friends and Foes #2
That finally broke her playing, as she snarled and grabbed at him, nails digging into his skin, slicing through it and going deep.
Lancelot ignored her, instead summoning all of his strength and willpower.
"Lady Iseult of Camelot, your king bids you remember where you swore your true allegiance.
" She screamed and yanked her nails from his hand to go for his face instead, succeeding in scratching the right cheek open before he punched her, knocking her over.
Straddling her chest, one more thing he hated himself for, he retrieved his sword and sank the tip of it into the heavy collar.
"Lady Iseult, in the name of the king, I beseech you remember who you are and disavow this black magic.
In the name of my mother, the Queen of the Waters, I repel your foul magic!
" He screamed as he poured everything he had, everything he was, into the black magic sunk into the collar, into the spell.
He channeled the power of crushing waves, of cyclones that could raze civilizations, of devastating flash floods and raging rivers that swept away cities leaving no trace they ever were.
Of the cold dark deep that the surface would never see and couldn't comprehend anyway, where his mother and her kingdom ruled and protected the oldest, most powerful element in the world.
His vision went spotty, then black, as Iseult's scream deafened his own. Before he passed out, haunted, pain-hazed green eyes stared back at him, and he was so very very fucking tired of passing out.
When he woke, everything hurt, especially his fucking head, and he was right where he'd passed out. This time, though, he wasn't alone. Tristan and Iseult were there, no longer collared, fully aware, and looking as miserable as he felt. "How long was I…"
"Just a few minutes," Iseult said. "I managed to heal you a bit, though it's not really my thing. Here, drink this. It's just water, but you need that more than most, and literally everything needs it to live."
Lancelot managed a weak laugh. "It's true I could really use a good, long rest at the bottom of a lake, but I'll happily take what I can get. I'm sorry for hurting you both."
Iseult scoffed. "You did what you had to in order to save us, Lancelot. I like to think we are sensible and grateful enough not to quibble about the details."
"Forgot how hard you can hit when you really get going, you bastard," Tristan said cheerfully.
Lancelot smiled faintly. "That's still Captain Bastard to you."
"Come on, now that you're awake, we need to get downstairs and back to the others." He dropped his head. "I'm sorry he was able to take me. I swear, I fought as hard as I could."
Cupping his face, rubbing away a spot of blood, Lancelot then pressed their foreheads together. "Of course you did. That was never in doubt. You are not to blame for being a victim. Do not do that. Put the blame squarely on Maleagant." Withdrawing, he turned to Iseult. "Milady, are you well?"
"Been better, but somehow, I've also been worse," she said with a crooked smile.
"Suppose you have," he replied. "Come on, let's get moving. I need to know how the fight with the others went." If maybe, somehow, someway, they'd freed Galehaut. He wasn't getting his hopes up…much…
Going down was a much slower affair than going up, but they each managed to do it under their own power with only a couple of stumbles that thankfully only resulted in bruising and no breaks. What a pain in the ass a broken leg or arm would be right now.
Everything was eerily quiet as they drew close to the great hall. There was water everywhere, but it was still now, something water should never be.
As they stepped into the hall, the first thing he saw were bodies. Everyone was lying in the water, thankfully face up or at an awkward angle that kept their face out of it somehow, still as death. Heart in his throat, Lancelot went to each of them in turn to check for signs of life.
Arthur, Morgan, Gawain—all fine.
Guinevere, Merlin, Percival—all fine.
Dred, Elaine, Galahad – all fine.
Galehaut, Bran, Bertilak…missing. Damn it. He'd known that was how it would go, but…
Shoving away the pain and fear, he got his comrades on their feet, standing with Arthur as he said, "What happened?"
"You got Tristan and Iseult, good. That's probably what caused the others to break long enough we managed to get Percival back too, before Ethelfleda showed up out of nowhere and knocked us on our asses.
She could have killed us, at least a few of us, I don't fucking know why she didn't." Arthur looked pained and humiliated by the decision.
"They had us. I have no idea why she just left us to rot. "
Morgan and Merlin joined them, the others forming a circle more slowly, helping each other as they limped over from all parts of the enormous hall.
Merlin said, "It could be something to do with his own magic price.
Remember, he used black magic once to seize victory at Camlann.
The magic I used thwarted that. So he sacrificed everything for a victory he didn't get, and he still had to pay the price, as it wasn't the magic's fault that his victory was denied at the last moment.
He isn't guaranteed it again, either, as my request was essentially for a second chance at a fair fight.
So whatever price he is paying must be dictating certain things.
That is the only reason I can imagine that he would not take a chance to kill us all. "
"Or he's biding his time and needs us for something," Morgan said.
"Perhaps right here, right now, was the moment he intended to use us for whatever he's planning, but something we did or didn't do thwarted it, so he called it off until he could rearrange it.
We just don't fucking know! We've been playing defense and catch up since waking. "
"Yes, always several steps behind," Arthur said. "It's time to go on the offensive. I want Ethelfleda. She's our ticket to knowledge. First order of business, though, is our home."
Guinevere said, "Elaine, Galahad, and I will work on food for us right now. Unless we're able to leave?"
Lancelot called up his menu and tried to log out. "No. I don't know what's tipped, but I think we're going to be here in the pocket universe for a long time, unless we can figure out what controls that."
"Add it to the list," Arthur said. "Tomorrow, we start planning. Tonight, we need to rest. Dred, you and I are the most upright at the moment. We'll run perimeter. The rest of you know what you're about."
"Yes, Your Majesty," they chorused.
Arthur looked at Lancelot. "Go swimming.
I don't want to see you again before sunrise.
I'm sorry we could not get Galehaut back for you, god knows we tried.
He seems more deeply bespelled than the others.
When you stopped the music, they all seemed to break somehow except Galehaut.
He didn't even slow his movements. Whooped my fucking ass, threw me right into a goddamn wall, cracked it and me.
" He lifted a hand before Lancelot could ask the obvious question.
"Guinevere fixed me up." He sighed. "I was never a great king, but I like to think I was better than whatever the hell I'm managing now. "
"We started on our back foot, Your Majesty. We died the losers in a bitter feud we should have won, and woke up while the redo was into the second half—and a third of our team was stolen. All told, we're doing rather well."
Arthur smiled briefly, then threw his thumb over his shoulder. "Get lost, fish boy."
Lancelot slapped his hand to his chest and bowed.
"Your Majesty." Though he had questions, a need for all the details of the fight, he was far too close to passing out again and didn't want to collapse at anyone's feet for the hundredth time.
His soul ached for water, and so to the water he would go. On royal order, even.
He stood on the bank simply taking in the splendor of the beautiful, enormous lake that had not existed alongside the real Camelot. Well, original Camelot. This one was very real, in its own, strange way.
He waded into the water until he could dive, then swam down, down, down, body shifting and changing to something more suited to dark, frigid depths.
The game or universe or whatever had been meticulous here too, revealing the ruins of an ancient castle or temple, broken statues and lost paths, crumbling rooms filled with fish and plant life.
A lost, forgotten kingdom that had ruled before Maleagant had come along and rebuilt Camelot in its place.
He swam through the ruins, until he reached what seemed to have once been the great hall, and in amusement, settled on the throne that had somehow, magically and conveniently, survived perfectly intact—
And jerked up and away in alarm when it lit up with shimmery blue light.
It faded again, clearly requiring touch to activate.
Well, he wasn't inviting anymore trouble tonight, thanks.
He'd had more than enough of that, from the moment he'd ceased to be Lance Waters and had woken fully as Lancelot du Lac.
That was not his name in the land of his mother, of course, but that name wasn't translatable to any human language, meant to be spoken in ways humans could not, in places humans could not live.
Whenever his mother visited him on the surface, even she called him Lancelot, though most often she didn't use his name at all, but various endearments like—
My son
Lancelot froze. Was he losing his mind?
Beloved. Sit.
Well, if he was going insane, at least insanity took the form of his mother's warm, musical voice.
He'd tried hard in all of this not to think of her too much.
She was Queen of the Waters, a demi-god of life, and she could not and would not interfere in such matters.
It wasn't safe for her, those she protected, or the world at large.
Water could not and did not pick favorites.
Except for the one time she had broken every single one of her rules to turn an abandoned human child into her very own. Except for a second time, when she'd granted a powerful sword to a young king to help restore a balance wrongfully set awry, because that king was her son's friend.
Lancelot sat in the ancient throne, forcing himself to remain still as it lit up again, bathing him in gentle blue light.
Before him appeared his mother, or at least a visage of her made of water and bubbles, as beautiful, impossible, and untouchable as the woman herself.
Just seeing her was enough to banish much of his mental and emotional anguish, to make the world bearable again.
He'd missed her so much, even when he hadn't remembered who he truly was.
However much he loved the land, his life in Camelot, the friends who were his family, he was a child of the deep waters before all else, and a boy who had dearly missed the woman who had done and given so much to a boy the world had thrown away. "Mother."
My treasure. You continue to be brave and true. At great cost, though, and I worry for you.
"I'm resting now, thankfully. I miss you, Mother. I don't even know where you are in this lifetime. How sad is that. I worry every day I may never leave this pocket universe, and so will never be able to see you again."
I am the very water itself, beloved. You are with me always, and I am always with you. There is comfort in a body you can see and touch, it is true, but do not forget what you are and have.
"You're right, of course. Thank you. Are you safe and well? Water now is…"
Mortals will never stamp me out. Worry not for me.
My soul rests where humans cannot reach, and my heart beats where humans will never tread.
My worry is for you, and this terrible fight with a man who destroys everything for ultimately petty grievances.
He has drunk deep of the shadows. Have utmost care.
"I will."
The visage reached out to cup his cheek the way she had so many times when he was a child, whenever he went home to visit her for too-brief moments.
Though it was water and not skin, it felt as warm and comforting as every other time.
She was right, as always, in that he did not need her flesh-and-blood form to know she was always there.
Remember who and what you are. You are humble, my son, which is a good thing to be. But do not forget where you come from, who you are, what you are, and all that means. It matters, and will matter more before your fight ends.
"I will, Mother. I am sorry you must come and remind me of these small things.
Do not be. You are young, and facing great challenges, and that is what I am for. You are the most precious thing to me in this world, in all worlds, and I will always be here for you. I love you, above and beyond all else. You are mine. Do not let others make you forget that.
"I could never forget the woman who saved me and loved me and gave me a life like no other. I love you, Mother."
And I love you, my son. Now rest. Nothing will trouble you this night.
A soft kiss was pressed to his brow, warmer and firmer than water had any right being, and he drifted off to sleep with a smile, still sitting there on the throne glowing softly in the dark depths.