Chapter Text
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The journey back to the caves was tough. Arthur was in worse shape than any of them wanted to admit. It took a long time just to get him up on a horse. It was a slow trip. Any quick movement of his horse sent a wave of agony through him.
After his first few quiet hisses of pain, had he be capable of turning around, he would have seen The Mage's eyes the liquid chocolate color of his horse's for much of the journey as she took control of the beast. Horses could be unpredictable at the best of times, and though it was taxing for her to hold the connection for so long, it ensured Arthur suffered as little as possible as they crossed the rocky terrain.
It was late when they returned. They rode their mounts straight into the main room of the cave system. Arthur sat still for a few moments, drawing in a few deep breaths to brace and prepare himself. When he opened his eyes, Bedivere was standing beside his horse, reaching for him.
Arthur accepted the help, but barely managed to bite back the grimace as his ribs sent another wave of agony through him. The pain stole his breath and he braced a hand against the horse's side. The creature held unnaturally still as it seemed to wait for him, and he slowly lifted his head with a frown directed at the animal. Horses just didn't behave that way. He stared hard into its eyes that watched him with an intelligence no horse should possess. His frown deepened as he slowly turned towards The Mage and he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted.
"Al'right there, mate?"
Arthur's head snapped around in disbelief to see Back Lack and Wet Stick striding towards them. Arthur limped forward a step in shock. He turned back to Bedivere. "How-?" he started and stopped, shaking his head in disbelief. He had been so sure his friends and family were lost to him.
"The girls are here too," Wet Stick said. "But they're sleeping. This lot expected you back ages age," he said, gesturing to a few of the rebels who milled around and those who had come out to welcome them.
"You look like death mate," Back Lack said, taking a step closer to Arthur. He frowned at his friend in concern.
"How are you here?" Arthur asked again in disbelief.
Behind them, Rubio cleared his throat politely before stepping forward to answer the Born King's question. "The Mage asked us to look out for your people and bring them here," Rubio said, coming up behind Arthur's friends. "Gave us quite the tongue lashing for not doing it in the first place actually. You have our apology," Rubio said holding out his hand.
Arthur was stunned, The Mage had done this. He shook the young man's hand automatically, but his thoughts were racing. He had only mentioned his family to her once in passing and it had been the first night they met. He hadn't imagined she would have remembered, much less demanded the rebels actually do something about it.
Arthur turned around, looking for her. Once they had come back into the large group of rebels The Mage had stepped back, giving everyone room. She was trying to make her way out of the large group that seemed to make her so uncomfortable.
Arthur took a fast, painful step after her and reached out, touching her wrist gently but not restraining. She turned and he dropped his hand immediately. When she met his gaze she froze, her hazel eyes inscrutable.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
The Mage found herself nodding, although her breath had caught in her throat unexpectedly at his closeness. The sincerity in his eyes was so intense she found herself trapped like a bird held in the gaze of a viper.
"Thank you for making sure my family is safe," he said the words again so she would believe him.
She swallowed hard and nodded again. "Make sure you get some sleep. You need to heal. You're no good to us dead," she snapped, pleased her voice had sounded so level.
He flashed her a smile that actually reached his eyes as though her snarled words amused him instead of offended him. It rocked her back a little and her frown deepened. He just smirked at her in response. It was difficult to miss how handsome he was even with his injuries. Desperate to save face, The Mage slipped away down the hall towards her rooms, leaving him some time alone with his friends.
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Arthur limped out into the main hall an hour later. He leaned more heavily than he would have like on the cane one of the rebels had found him. The rebels had their healer take a look at him, but the old man hadn't done anything The Mage hadn't already done.
In fact, Arthur was fairly certain he was in better hands with The Mage than with their ancient, cave dwelling healer. Once he was sent on his way, he convinced Rubio to tell him where The Mage was staying. He wanted a moment alone with her to thank her again for asking the rebels to bring his family here. He was positive the rebels would have left them to fend for themselves against the Blacklegs.
When he went to her room however it was empty. The narrow pallet was still tidy and there was no fire in the small hearth. The room was as cold and sterile as the one they had shown him to despite the fact that he knew she had been her for weeks before his arrival. The Mage hadn't slept much while they were traveling and he knew she had to be exhausted. He went back out into the main hall. The lights were low, only a single candle flickered at one of the tables. Goosefat sat alone in the flickering light, drinking.
"Seen The Mage?" Arthur called to the old knight.
Goosefat turned to him. "And why are you looking for our lovely little Mage?" he asked with a salacious grin.
Arthur shot him a withering look, but was aware the amount of bruising and swelling on his face made him look significantly less intimidating than he wanted. He still found the abrasive man obnoxious and given their history he was sure the feeling of dislike was mutual.
Seeing Arthur wasn't in the mood to joke and unable to resist Goosefat took another sip of his drink before pushing just a little bit harder. "Not looking up for much fun tonight your majesty," he observed, motioning with the rim of his glass.
Arthur sighed and turned to go. If he stayed in the same room with Goosefat he was going to hit him with the his new cane.
"Wait, wait, wait," Goosefat called after him, pouting a little that he hadn't managed to get a rise out of the Born King. "She went out the back," he said, gesturing over his shoulder.
"And you just let her?" Arthur asked a little sharper than he should have.
Goosefat arched his eyebrows. Though he held his body casually, there was temper in his eyes. "Far be it for me to stop a Mage when she's on a mission."
Arthur made a noise in the back of his throat and moved away towards the back of the cave to find The Mage.
"You look like him you know," Goosefat called after him, his words slurring slightly.
Arthur hesitated, turning back to face the old knight. His skull prickled as he turned back around. It was obvious Goosefat was drunk and he didn't want to have this conversation. Not now, not ever. He had agreed to help them take out Vortigern, but he hadn't signed on for a painful trip down memory lane.
"Your father," Goosefat clarified as though Arthur were too dumb to figure it out. He frowned and stared into Arthur's angry face, oblivious to the rage brewing in those blue eyes. "You have your mom's eyes though."
Arthur grunted, knowing if he said anything else it wouldn't be pleasant, and turned and headed outside. It took him a few minutes before he found her in the dark. By the time he did, his anger at Goosefat was forgotten.
The Mage was sitting on the edge of the cliff over the lake, staring out into the night. She had her cloak wrapped tightly around herself against the chill in the air. It made her look smaller and more delicate than he knew her to be. She was tough, the little Mage.
He thought he had moved fairly quietly, but she somehow still knew he was there. He blamed it on the cane and the limp.
"You should be resting," she said sharply. "Go back inside."
Arthur was unapologetic as he grunted and lowered himself to the ground beside her. He kept his badly injured leg stretched out in front of him and breathed through the pain until it settled. She wasn't wrong. He should be inside resting, but he couldn't leave it alone.
"You shouldn't be outside in this cold when you should be healing," she said again when he didn't respond to her first order.
Arthur chuckled at her snarled words even though it hurt. "I could say the same to you," he countered.
"I didn't almost die today," she snapped impatiently. He was being deliberately difficult.
Arthur tried not to be too pleased that he continued to get a rise out of the normally stoic Mage. He should feel bad for teasing her, but seeing the flash of emotion in her dark eyes was worth it.
"I was looking for you. Why are you out here anyway?" he asked, looking around. In the dark there wasn't much to see.
"I don't sleep well understone," she said. It surprised her a little, the need to explain the truth of the matter to him. It came so easily it startled her and she bit her lip to keep her silence.
"You ain't slept in days," he said turning to look at her. He kept his fist gripped tightly on the cane to keep himself from reaching up and touching the dark bruises under her eyes.
"I'll rest out here," she said, then she hesitated and looked back at him. "I would prefer the other's didn't know."
"Why can't you sleep in the caves. We're as safe there as anywhere."
"I don't like the dark," she said. "My room has no windows."
Arthur looked around at the night surrounding them in confusion.
She made a noise in the back of her throat. "I grew up on the road. The night is filled with stars, and sleeping beneath the moon is preferred by most Mages," she said.
"Are there many more of you?" Arthur asked gently.
"A few, north of the wall," she allowed, looking down at her hands. "Not many escaped the purges of your uncle."
Arthur clenched his free hand into a fist at the thought of all the destruction his uncle's greed had wrought. "You saved my family," he said after a moment's pause.
"They did not ask for this," she said simply. His gratitude made her uncomfortable. As he had pointed out, they were the ones who left his people behind when they rescued him. It wasn't fair and she had wanted to make it right. She was glad she had not been too late.
"Neither did you and neither did I," he pointed out.
She turned back to look at him with an imperceptible expression.
"Well, maybe you did," he allowed. He pressed his lips together. "But I sure didn't," he said and he climbed wearily to his feet. He hesitated, looking up at the stars and let out a sighed. "I'm sorry about your father," he said.
"It was a long time ago," she said with a small shrug. She had worked her way through the pain of her parent's deaths. "I was almost too young to remember."
Arthur looked down at her and even through his injuries she could see his determination and his resolve. This was the Born King. Even without Excalibur there was power to him. A small shiver ran up her spine and she wrapped her arms around her legs disguising her reaction with the cold.
"I'm going to kill him," he promised her.
She believed him.
Arthur hesitated as he turned to return to the caves. "I won't be able to convince you to come to bed?"
The Mage's eyes flared in surprise and Arthur's own eyes widened. "I didn't mean-" he started and stopped. Shaking his head, he blew out a sigh. He was normally much more in control of his mouth than this. There was something about The Mage that made him feel like he was off kilter. "I hope you sleep well," he said, gesturing vaguely to the forest around them.
"Goodnight My King," she called after him.
Arthur hesitated at her words, but for once, didn't argue.
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