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Lancelot had a bad feeling the second he woke up to a pounding head and the rough bounce of a cart. His sense of dread got even worse when he realized he couldn't move his hands or feet either.

Lancelot yanked against the ropes that bound him, but the ache in his head was making him weak. What had happened? He and Gwaine had been patrolling, looking for a bandit ring and that was all he remembered…

Lancelot blinked past the wooziness—some kind of drug?—as realization shot through him. Where was Gwaine?

A groan sounded at his back and Lancelot somehow managed to summon the strength to roll over and see the figure lying next to him in the cart.

"Gwaine?" he inquired, tongue heavy.

"Lance?" the other knight slurred, blinking slowly. "Wha' 'appened?"

Lancelot groaned, relieved that his friend was at least no worse off than he was. "Not sure. Think we got drugged." There was a sore spot on the side of his neck where he might have vaguely remembered being hit by a dart, but that was still beside the point. They didn't know who had captured them or why.

It turned out it wouldn't be long before they got at least part of an answer. The cart rattled to a stop when they reached a sort of rocky cave system. Lancelot and Gwaine tried to prop themselves up as much as they could as their captors came to the edge of the cart, opening the back before reaching in and pulling them out.

"Out you come," one huge man growled. He chuckled when Lancelot failed to be able to use his legs both because of the rope and the drug in his system. He simply grabbed him by the back of his shirt—Lancelot also realized that he and Gwaine had been completely stripped of all mail and weapons—and proceeded to drag him across the ground, into one of the caves.

"We got some new recruits. Where do you want 'em, boss?" the man called as they got inside.

Another man came forward and glanced over the two captives. Gwaine snarled and received a kick in the side for his troubles.

"Put them in the cooler for now. They'll be too drugged up to fight until tomorrow night. Garen is in the cage now anyway."

Fight? Lancelot frowned but was soon dragged further into the cave, his bonds sliced. Before he could muster up the strength to fight back though, he was kicked in the back and scrabbled at the air for a second before he hit the ground heavily, the breath getting knocked from him.

There was a whump beside him and a wheeze as Gwaine befell the same fate.

The other knight rolled over with a groan as Lancelot sat up.

"Are you all right?" Lancelot asked.

Gwaine grunted. "Just bruises. You?"

Lancelot nodded, though whatever their captors had drugged them with was still making his head pound.

"You heard them mention fighting? What do you think that's all about?" Gwaine asked, pushing himself up as well and clutching his head.

"I don't know," Lancelot sighed, looking up. He didn't have to stand up to know that this hole was too deep to climb out of. Even if they stood on each other's shoulders, he was sure there were guards waiting for them just to try it.

"I would guess we're probably going to find out pretty soon, though," he said grimly.

Gwaine nodded and they both slumped against the stone wall of the hole, hoping that they might get some chance to escape the next day.

~~~~~~~~

Lancelot was ashamed to admit that he slept off the drug for a lot longer than he should have when they were supposed to be trying to escape, but he soon realized Gwaine had done the same, both of them groggily coming to as dirt and pebbles were kicked down on top of them from above.

"Wake up, it's time for you two to get ready," one of the guards said.

Gwaine glowered up at them. "If you want us, come and get us," he challenged.

Two more stepped up and trained crossbows on them as the first guard lowered a rope.

"Come up now or never again," he said threateningly. "It's your choice."

Lancelot and Gwaine shared a look and Gwaine took the rope first, Lancelot following.

Once they were out of the hole, they were escorted into another part of the cave. Noise, raucous and loud, was coming from the direction they were heading in, getting louder and louder before they were led into some sort of antechamber and the noise hit them like a wave. Cheering, shouting, and the clang of weapons.

Lancelot stopped, gaping at the scene, seeing a crowd of people standing around a huge iron cage as they watched two men fighting each other, locked in vicious combat.

"What…?" Lancelot breathed.

"It's for sport," Gwaine said in a low voice. "This is exactly what I was doing before Arthur found me again. But this looks even more brutal than the group I was fighting for."

Well, this definitely put them into a predicament. Lancelot wondered if these were the men they had been sent to look for at all, or if this was yet another group hiding out in the woods, causing trouble for unsuspecting travelers. There always seemed to be way too much of that going on around Camelot.

They were both pushed forward as the men in the cage began to fight even more desperately. Until one was suddenly thrown against the bars and a red gash was carved into his chest, cutting deeply into the muscle of his shoulder. The man screamed and dropped as the crowd cheered and shouted their approval of the bloody scene as money exchanged hands.

The guards opened the cage and the injured man was dragged out as the victor leapt out after him, raising his sword to the cheering crowd.

Lancelot was shoved forward toward the cage and he glanced back quickly at Gwaine, but he was still being held by the guards.

"Lancelot!" the other knight called.

The crowd stared at him with interest as he was brought to the cage door. He cringed at the smear of blood from its previous occupant, but a sword was swiftly shoved into his hand before he was pushed inside.

"Our new fighter, hailing from Camelot—a knight, if you can believe it," One of the men announced. Lancelot recognized him as the apparent leader of the operation from the night before. "Sir Lancelot! He will be facing off with Herick the Crusher!"

Another man jumped into the cage before the door was locked behind them, carrying a sword that was even bigger than the one Lancelot had been given. He swallowed hard. But he should be able to win this. He would be a lot quicker with his own weapon. He just didn't really want to have to kill a man who was probably just another prisoner.

There was no signal, the man simply roared and surged toward him. Lancelot stepped back quickly, his back hitting the bars of the cage before he ducked and scrambled away, the man's sword clanging against the metal, pulling a shout from the crowd.

Lancelot found his way back to the middle of the ring and fell into a fighting stance. Herick charged again, going for another wide swing. Lancelot dodged easily and got inside his range, swinging his own blade.

He was shocked when the man simply reached out and stopped it, grabbing his wrist before bringing the pommel of his sword around to slam into Lancelot's side.

The knight gasped, legs shaking from the pain as he staggered, getting a leg up to kick at the man's sword arm, keeping him from delivering another devastating blow.

Lancelot knew the standoff wouldn't last long so he decided he was going to have to play dirty.

He brought his knee up into the man's groin.

The crowd booed as Herick staggered back and Lancelot freed his sword arm from the man's grip. Herick puffed, but came up, furious, surging forward with a roar.

"Get him!"

"Get the little cur!"

"Crush 'im!"

At the crowd's encouragement, Herick swung with an extra mighty blow. Lancelot only had a second to react and launched himself forward, slamming into the man's midriff and bringing them both down. Lancelot felt the other man's sword cut into his arm and his injured ribs ached, but he was able to swiftly get up and subdue Herick by stomping on his sword arm firmly as he pressed the point of his blade against the man's throat.

The crowd roared in shock, and several of the guards hurried into the cage to grab Lancelot, taking his sword away, presumably before he killed the man.

He found himself face to face with the boss for a second who looked him up and down before he nodded. "This one seems to be a keeper. Good job, boy. You earned yourself another night to live."

Lancelot didn't know whether he should really be grateful for that or not, but he was dragged back over through the crowd as Gwaine was brought forward.

Lancelot's breath caught in his throat as he watched his friend get the same treatment.

"And we have yet another of Camelot's knights joining us tonight," the leader announced. "Up against Torin!"

Lancelot watched, tense, trying to ignore the aches in his body as Gwaine faced off against the other fighter.

The fight didn't last long. The other man looked like he might have been a new recruit, and was definitely not as skilled as the knight. Gwaine finished the fight off before a minute was up by disarming the other man and slamming his head against the bars to drop unconscious. Lancelot snorted slightly. No wonder his friend had been the champion of the previous fight ring he'd been a part of.

The crowd seemed shocked but started cheering for Gwaine. The boss seemed impressed as well and Gwaine smirked slightly as he was escorted out of the cage by the guards.

"You seem rather pleased with yourself," Lancelot commented, a little annoyed as Gwaine rejoined him and they were taken somewhere else within the caves.

The other knight shrugged. "Well, it's not like I'm not used to it. I'll take the easy ones." He glanced over at Lancelot with some concern. "You took a couple hits though, you okay?"

"Nothing too bad," Lancelot assured him.

Gwaine gave him a look, but they were being pushed down a dark corridor and Lancelot saw cells set into the cave walls. His heart sank. This would certainly mean fewer chances of escape.

They were shoved into one of the cells and the door was bolted behind them.

Gwaine tested it for a couple seconds before seeming to determine that there was no way they were getting out.

Lancelot sighed and slumped onto one of the cots pushed against a wall, wincing as he wrapped a hand around his ribs. He didn't think anything was broken, but they were bruised.

"Let me see," Gwaine told him firmly as he came to lean over Lancelot.

The other knight sighed, but carefully lifted his tunic to reveal his side. Gwaine winced in sympathy and Lancelot looked down as well, seeing, as he expected, the beginnings of some pretty nasty bruising.

Besides that, the cut on his arm was thankfully not that deep.

"Could be worse," Gwaine told him as he ripped a strip from the tail of his shirt to bind it with.

Lancelot grunted, as a sound came from outside the door and a slot opened in the bottom before a tray of food was pushed through.

Gwaine went over and grabbed it, staring at it with a sigh. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing."

They shared the meager offering of bread and cheese between them and then tried to sleep, even though Lancelot knew Gwaine was also awake on the cot across from him.

"When do you think the others will realize we're missing?" Gwaine asked suddenly.

Lancelot sighed, resigned. "Not for a couple of days at least. We were planning on our mission taking about three."

Gwaine let out a long breath. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, I guess it's a good thing we're both pretty good at fighting, eh?"

Lancelot snorted and watched his companion roll over, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy cot. He wasn't really sure it mattered. Eventually, the odds were that they would end up injured, or half-starved if they continued only eating these meager rations and were expected to fight.

No, Lancelot was hoping that some opportunity of escape would present itself eventually. Perhaps he shouldn't hope too much, but he certainly wasn't going to give up that hope. Not yet.

And if nothing else, he knew that their friends would eventually come for them. He just hoped that they would get there in time.

The next day was spent in the cell, incredibly dull. Lancelot and Gwaine looked for some way out, but guards were constantly patrolling and they really had no idea the pattern they took. Even if they could get out of the cell itself, there was no guarantee they would get out of the complex cave system without detection—in fact it was highly unlikely.

And then that night, the guards came for them again, or, just Lancelot this time.

"We'll be back for you later if the crowd needs more entertainment," one of the men said to Gwaine as they shoved Lancelot away.

The crowd was just as rowdy as before when Lancelot was pushed out into the arena. In the cage, he saw the huge man he had watched badly wound the man the night before. His stomach began to knot. He had a feeling he was in for a bad time.

The boss was whipping the crowd up as the fighter prowled in the cage.

"Tonight, our reigning champion, Garen is going to be pitted against one of our new recruits. Will it be a blood bath? Or will the new boy surprise us?!"

Shouts from the crowd nearly deafened Lancelot as he was pushed toward the cage, given a sword and forced to step through the opening. The other fighter looked him up and down with a sneer and it was only a second before he charged, gaining a roar from the gathered onlookers.

Lancelot dodged the first blow and parried the second, but the man's strength was immense and just that one blow made his arm go partially numb from the simple act of parrying it.

This Garen obviously knew his strength and instead of disengaging, he simply pushed forward with their swords locked, forcing Lancelot back until his back was pressed against the bars of the cage. He also hadn't been foolish enough to pick a weapon longer than Lancelot's so there would be no ducking inside his range like he had done with the previous fighter.

Lancelot let himself be pushed backwards, allowing the man to think he was less competent than he was, and then when Garen sneered in his face, he smiled slightly, locked their hilts, and used that as leverage to push the other fighter away and drop to the ground, disengaging as he lunged to the side. He angled his sword to slice across Garen's leg as he went and the man howled in fury and surprise more than pain.

Lancelot was back on his feet, holding his sword ready as Garen spun around and charged at him.

Lancelot caught his sword and they exchanged a series of punishing blows. He really was a powerful fighter, and even though he was cocky, he didn't allow that to take away from his skill with a sword. This wasn't good for Lancelot though, because it meant he had less to exploit.

His injured arm was already aching, and his hands were numbing from the constant vibration of the heavy blows. He was beginning to get desperate. If he wanted to survive this, he was going to have to do something quickly.

The next time Garen came at him with an overhand blow, Lancelot caught it near the guard of his sword and used the leverage to push the blade to one side as he brought his leg up to kick the man.

Garen seemed to see what he was doing before he even got started. The man sneered and slammed his sword against Lancelot's forcing him to stagger backwards. Garen's boot came up and slammed into Lancelot's injured ribs.

He choked on a cry and collapsed to a knee, just barely dodging as Garen's sword came down on him. He twisted and rolled but felt the hot slice of a blade across his side before he could get his sword up to block. He gasped and Garen kicked his sword out of his hand and slammed his foot into Lancelot's chest, pressing him firmly to the ground.

The crowd roared and the boss got in the cage.

"And Garen continues to be the reigning champion!" he said.

The man's boot came off of Lancelot's chest and two of the guards came in to drag him up and out of the cage.

Lancelot gasped, pressing a hand to the wound in his side. He could feel the blood soaking through his tunic and knew it was more than just a scratch.

Gwaine was waiting in the cell, but he got up and grabbed the bars when he saw them dragging Lancelot back.

"What did you do to him? Lancelot!" he shouted furiously.

"Get back." One of the guards kicked the bars to warn Gwaine to back up and then they opened the door and threw Lancelot inside unceremoniously.

"Lancelot," Gwaine breathed as he instantly crouched, grabbing the other knight by the shoulder as he helped ease him up.

Lancelot gasped, doubling over, clutching his side.

"How bad?" Gwaine asked.

"Don't know," Lancelot gritted out. "Bleeding."

Gwaine cursed and got an arm underneath Lancelot before he heaved him up and over to the cot. Lancelot cried out and collapsed onto the small cot as Gwaine started to pry his hand away from his side and pull his tunic up to see the damage. He cursed again.

Lancelot looked down at the same time and woozily watched fresh blood drip down his side from the deep slice just under his ribs.

"Damn," Gwaine muttered as he started looking around and cringed as he grabbed one of the ratty blankets from the cell. He tore it in half and wadded one half, pressing it to the wound to save the other for bandaging. Lancelot gasped and his knees curled upward.

"Easy," Gwaine murmured. "This is pretty deep. We need to try to stop the bleeding."

Lancelot huffed a breath and lay back, arm over his eyes as he tried to breathe through the pain. It could have been worse, he supposed. It was a serious wound, but not a mortal one. However, that didn't mean that it would be next time.

"This is ridiculous," Gwaine growled as he lifted the blanket to check the wound, and seemed satisfied with the bleeding. He turned to the rest of the blanket and started tearing it into strips. "We need to get out of here."

"I know," Lancelot murmured, raising an arm to rest across his eyes. "But I don't really see what we can do stuck in this cell."

Gwaine shook his head helplessly and started to bandage Lancelot, urging him to sit up so he could get under his back. Lancelot leaned on him and once the bandaging was done, Gwaine settled him back down onto the uncomfortable cot, covering him with the other blanket.

"We will get out of here," he promised.

Lancelot nodded, though at the moment, he was so tired, and on top of that he wasn't entirely sure he believed they would get out of there.

At least not alive.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Lancelot was woken from a deep sleep by the door opening. Gwaine was taken from the cell and he cast one worried glance back at Lancelot before the guards dragged him away.

Lancelot felt a thrill of fear go through him. What if Gwaine was also injured? They probably wouldn't be able to escape at all then.

But his side hurt a lot. In fact, it almost hurt more than it had when he'd first gotten it. Lancelot carefully touched the spot and bit back a gasp at the pain.

He didn't bother looking at it, simply eased himself back down and closed his eyes. He must have passed out or something, because the next thing he knew, the door was opening again and Gwaine was getting shoved back through the door, looking a little rough with some bruises visible on his face, but otherwise seemed to be okay.

Lancelot fought to push himself up onto an elbow. "Hey."

Gwaine turned to him instantly with a somewhat relieved expression. "You're awake? How do you feel?"

Lancelot winced as he forced himself into a complete sitting position and swung his shaky legs over the side of the cot.

Gwaine was by his side in a second. "Hey, easy. Can I take a look at this?"

Lancelot didn't want to, but knew it was probably a good idea to check. He nodded slowly and lifted his shirt out of the way, leaning back slightly.

Gwaine loosened the bandages and peeled them away from the wound, the rough fabric crusted with blood. Lancelot hissed at the pain and glanced down.

The wound still looked pretty bad even if it wasn't bleeding. The flesh around the cut looked slightly red and Lancelot didn't think that boded very well.

Gwaine swallowed hard and turned to some extra strips of blanket he'd kept. "Probably should change this," he commented, sounding more hopeful than anything.

Lancelot nodded and once that was done he carefully sat back, propped against the wall of the cell. Gwaine handed him the jug they were given.

"You should drink."

Lancelot gulped thirstily and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he felt utterly tired. "How was your fight?"

"I won," Gwaine said with a shrug. "Wish they'd pit me against that bastard Garen though."

"I don't," Lancelot said. "He's not stupid. And if you do get pitted against him, don't underestimate him."

Gwaine sighed and sat down on his own cot. "I hate this. I gave up this kind of tripe after I joined Arthur."

"I know," Lancelot said as he sank back onto the cot. "I'm sorry."

Gwaine gave him a wan smile. "Hey, I'm not the one who got injured. You should rest."

Lancelot didn't think he had much choice. His eyes were already closing.

When he next woke, everything hurt. His whole body felt stiff and achy, and when he swallowed his throat and mouth were dry.

He felt something move near him before something touched his forehead. He startled and blinked his eyes open, wondering why they were so bleary.

"Lancelot?" Gwaine's voice filtered in and the injured knight was finally able to focus on his friend leaning over him with a worried expression.

"Mm, what's wrong?" he mumbled, trying to sit up.

Gwaine pushed him back down. "I think you have a fever. Your wound might be infected or something."

Lancelot blinked slowly. A fever? That would actually explain why he was feeling so terrible. "Thirsty," he whispered.

Gwaine cursed and grabbed the jug, carefully propping Lancelot up against his arm and helping him drink from the unwieldy container. "Do you feel really bad?" he asked worriedly.

Lancelot licked the moisture from his lips. "I don't feel good," he admitted.

Gwaine huffed a slight laugh but the injured knight could tell he was worried. "I'll see if they have some herbs or something."

Lancelot nodded and let his eyes slip shut again.

~~~~~~~

Gwaine was worried. Lancelot was barely able to stay awake for any period of time and his fever seemed to be pretty bad. He had tried asking for herbs when the guards had brought them food, but they just ignored him. He didn't know how they expected to run a fight ring if all of their men died from infections.

He did finally manage to wake Lancelot enough to feed him some of the gruel that was brought for them. He was lucid enough for now when he could wake him up, but Gwaine was worried that would change soon.

He was startled by the door opening and stood up, ready to go, but instead the guards motioned to Lancelot.

"He's on tonight."

Lancelot looked up and Gwaine clenched his fists. "Seriously? Look at him! He wouldn't last a minute in the ring!"

"I—I'm fine," Lancelot said as he attempted to push himself up, but Gwaine grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back down a little more roughly than intended.

"No," he said. "I'll go for him."

"Gwaine," Lancelot tried, but the other knight stopped him.

"You can't fight right now and you know it. Let me do this," he almost pleaded, afraid for his friend.

The guard's face turned to a frown, but one more glance at Lancelot swaying on the cot seemed to settle it. "Fine. You're right. He probably wouldn't make a good show. Out you come then."

Gwaine set his jaw and followed them.

The next two days went like this, Lancelot getting worse and worse, practically comatose now, and Gwaine fighting for both of them, collecting smaller injuries in the process.

Until one night, he was finally pitted against Garen.

He'd started to make a name for himself for his wins, becoming a secondary champion and he glanced at the other huge fighter as the boss worked up the crowd, getting them excited for the fight between the two champions.

"It will be Garen verses Gwaine tonight! There's no telling who the victor will be so place your bets and hope for the best!"

Money was put down as they were escorted toward the cage and stepped in, standing on either side. Gwaine sized the man up as Garen looked like he was doing the same before he grinned. "How's your little friend?"

Gwaine tried not to let the sneer get to him as he raised his sword. "Better than you're going to be when I'm done with you tonight."

Garen laughed darkly. "Big words. I actually hope you can back them up. I've been looking for a challenge."

Gwaine grinned. "Well, you've found one, mate."

He charged first, and Garen was forced to go on defense, which seemed to make him angry. He growled and thrust, forcing Gwaine back a step to block the blow. He felt the vibration up his arm and grunted. The man was strong.

They traded several blows, neither giving ground, until finally Gwaine chanced it and blocked, kicking out and catching the man in the knee.

His leg barely buckled; Garen snarled and slammed the pommel of his sword into Gwaine's jaw.

The knight tumbled to the ground hard, stars bursting before his eyes as he just barely saw the sword coming for him in time to roll out of the way.

A giant hand grabbed the back of his shirt and raised him up before slamming his face against the bars of the cage for the jeering crowd to see.

"You'll be lucky to fight again, when I finish your beating, whelp," Garen growled and Gwaine struggled, but a shout came from the crowd and suddenly chaos broke out.

He couldn't see it at first, but the second Garen dropped him, Gwaine realized he recognized the red cloaks the men who had rushed into the room were wearing and a surge of relief washed over him.

"Gwaine!" That was Merlin, rushing over to the cage through the mess of people trying to get out.

Gwaine grinned and stood, swinging his sword around and slamming it into Garen's face. The man apparently had a glass jaw because he collapsed as if poleaxed, completely unconscious.

Merlin somehow got the door to the cage open and Gwaine staggered out, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

"It sure is good to see you, my friend," he said.

Merlin smiled in relief. "You too. Are you all right?"

"Some cuts and bruises is all," Gwaine told him tiredly before he sobered. "But we need to get Lancelot out of here. He's being kept in the cells but he got injured. Wound got infected."

Merlin's face tightened as he heard this and he turned around as Arthur called to him.

"Merlin, where's Lancelot?"

"Gwaine's taking me to him."

Arthur nodded. "Percival, go with them."

Percival nodded and they all hurried behind Gwaine to the cells where all the fighters were begging to be let out. Gwaine ignored them for the moment and showed the others toward the cell.

"The key," he said suddenly.

Percival simply lifted his foot and somehow it opened when he kicked the lock, which didn't make sense because Gwaine and Lancelot had tried everything to get it open, but he didn't really care at the moment either.

Merlin was the first to rush in, bending over Lancelot's cot and putting a hand to his forehead.

"Lancelot?" he called, pulling down the blankets and seeing the dirty, blood-crusted bandages wrapped around his middle. He looked up at the others with a worried expression. "We need to get him out of here."

Percival stepped forward instantly and simply picked Lancelot up, carrying him out of the cell.

By the time they got back out to the main cave, Arthur and the other knights had taken care of the issue and the boss of the fight ring and his cronies were all kneeling on the ground, furious, but unable to do anything.

"This will stop, you hear me?" Arthur was saying. "Now let all the men you captured go."

He glanced up as the men in the care of several knights grudgingly got up and went to do as they were told. As soon as Arthur saw Lancelot in Percival's arms, he hurried over.

"What happened?"

"He was injured in a fight several days ago and his wound got infected," Gwaine explained.

Arthur turned to Merlin. "It's a long way back. Do you know what to do for him?"

The servant nodded, lips pressed tightly together. "I can try to clean the wound and bring down his fever enough to hold him over until we get back to Camelot where Gaius can look at him."

"Good, we'll make camp then," Arthur decided. "Might as well set up here since it's sheltered."

"We need to find him a bed then," Merlin said decidedly.

They found the boss' quarters that actually contained a nice, large bed and settled Lancelot in there. Percival helped Gwaine get Lancelot out of his filthy clothes and bandages while Merlin collected what he would need for the poultice.

Lancelot worryingly still hadn't woken up by the time Merlin came back and Gwaine began to worry they had waited too long.

He stayed to help Merlin while Percival went back to help Arthur and the others round up the culprits.

Merlin cringed as he looked at the wound. "It needs to be drained and thoroughly cleaned first," he said.

Gwaine winced. "I would have but they refused to give us enough water to clean it with."

Anger clouded Merlin's expression as he bent to inspect the wound closer, slipping a towel under Lancelot's side to catch the water. "Well, we'll do what we can now." He glanced up. "You might need to hold him."

Gwaine swallowed hard and went around to the other side of the bed to get out of Merlin's way, before he leaned over and took hold of Lancelot's shoulder.

Merlin got to work, and Lancelot finally responded, whimpering in pain and tossing his head, unable to process anything under the influence of the fever.

Gwaine held him down as Merlin muttered apologies and finished with the grim task as quickly as he could.

He then mixed up a poultice and spread it liberally over the wound before covering it with a damp cloth.

"This should help draw the infection," he said. "It will need to be changed through the night."

Gwaine nodded tiredly, watching Lancelot's face scrunch up in pain as he shifted in his sleep, a small sound of pain escaping his throat.

Merlin looked up at Gwaine. "Don't worry about it. Just get some rest. I'll watch over him. You've done enough."

Gwaine gave him a tired smile and simply laid down on the other side of the huge bed, asleep almost immediately.

He didn't wake until an indeterminant time later, when he heard quiet talking.

He opened his eyes and looked up to see Merlin sitting by Lancelot's side, smiling as he helped the knight drink a bowl of broth.

Gwaine was shocked to see the other man awake and seemingly lucid.

"Lancelot!" he cried.

The man smiled tiredly, still looking worse for wear, but finally looking like he would actually be okay.

"You're…fine!" he said, reaching up to rub his face, slightly confused.

"Well…I'm getting there," Lancelot said weakly.

Merlin grinned. "The poultice worked better than expected."

Gwaine thought he caught a small glance between the servant and the knight, but he shook his head with a relieved grin, still too tired to really process anything more than that Lancelot was awake and seemingly on the mend.

Merlin got up. "I'm going to go tell Arthur you're both awake. He's probably going to want to get back to Camelot as soon as possible, and it would be good for Gaius to look at your wounds, Lancelot."

They nodded as Merlin got up and Gwaine stood, stretching as he eyed Lancelot.

"You're really on the mend?" he asked.

Lancelot leaned tiredly back against the pillows. "I'm not healed. But I'm feeling a little better. The fever is mostly gone." He smiled then. "Thanks, by the way. I never would have made it through another fight."

Gwaine grinned. "I don't know. I'm sure you could have if you'd had to."

"Yes, but luckily I didn't," Lancelot said. "It's always nice to know you have people to watch your back."

Gwaine smiled fondly and patted Lancelot's shoulder gently. "Any time, my friend. Any time."