I had to help, this time I had to help for real.
I held Lancelot by his shoulder, trying to sit him down decently. His eyelids were barely lifted, his breath unsteady.
I didn't know what happened, and had no idea how to support him.
"L-Lancey, what do I do?" my shaken voice did not help, and he also wasn't cooperating.
He looked bad, I've seen him sick and with fevers, but never have I seen a Lancelot so beat up I felt my stomach revolving.
His usual soft wavy hair was now greased, dusty and scattered all over his head.
Wet blood was dripping from his forehead and I could see more trough this clothes, just what did he do and who did this to him?
There was no way he went to look for the fight conciously, and if he was in this state, I hoped the other counterpart was even worse.
"Help me, get the clothes off."
He did not need more.
I swiftly moved around him, gently peeling the blouse off his chest as he grunted in pain in my arms.
My heart was hurting from beating so fast.
If on normal days I would be dying of excitement to get to this stage with him, today I was suffering at every single movement we did.
His skin already started to turn different colours, small patched of purple and blue rising on his fair body, a cut was slashed on his flank, the source of all the blood loss. Was that the reason he was feeling dizzy and weak?
"We need to clean, stay still okay? I'll be right back." I whispered, trying to recollect everything I knew from watching Percival and Lancelot patching themselves up after training. It wasn't looking too serious, yet I didn't know how much blood he lost.
I moved to get up on my feet when his gloveless cold hand touched my forearm.
"Wait, Nim. The bed."
I nodded, wrapping my arms under his armpits, dragging his weight up to the bed. Not an easy task, but everything to make him comfortable.
Once he laid down on the bed, I stuffed the pillows so he could at least sit.
"Stay awake, please." I softly said more to myself than him, which made his throat shake in a small laugh.
"I'm not dying, Nim. I just pushed myself too hard and I'm well tired."
"Don't. Sleep."
"Aye, aye, Princess." He whispered undressing his other half.
I rushed at the back of the room for anything that would help me, from tore up cloths to actual bandages, but I couldn't find any medical supplies, what was this place, with no emergency equipment? Was it this hard to find it? We had loads in the palace and I used to trip in my own feet many times.
I wet the cleanest cloths in a bucket full of fresh water, hoping that would work just enough for the bleeding to stop and for him to feel better. Painkillers were a luxury I wanted to bet.
When I went back on his side I could tell he was not sleeping, yet his eyes were closed, his breath steady. Was it a good sign?
He flinched under my touch when I started to clean his wounds. Being the first time I was more scared of hurting him than actually help, which didn't prevent my hands from shaking.
"It's just- a scratch, don't worry so much." He tried to reassure me, grabbing a second cloth.
"A scratch is what you get when you fall on your knees." I muffled quietly, not understanding how he could be so calm. I sighed relieved at the sight of the cleaned wound, smaller than it appeared. "What happened?" I asked rewashing the cloth.
He averted his now open eyes, of course it would not tell me. Not that I had the power to do anything anyway.
"Lancelot." I firmly pronounced his name, there was no way he was not going to tell me. Not only I was worried, he also wanted me to get annoyed.
"I checked on the cages we found earlier..."
"And?" I spurred him to continue, but his eyes were still not on me, but focused on scrubbing the same spot of skin over and over again.
He remained silent, not sure if he didn't know how to say it or if he was deliberately trying to find an excuse to make things easier for me.
I bit my lip, feeling my eyes watery as a wall was slowly building between us. I placed my hands on his, interrupting his circles of endless movements. I couldn't look at his face for longer, it being more hurtful than his body.
"Please. Don't hide anything from me. I know something happened, it only makes it worse if you don't clearly tell me." Says the one who didn't say the King is dead and doesn't know what the now ex First Prince is planning.
That already pained me more that I could imagine, I didn't need someone else, especially Lancelot, to hide more from me.
Having too much of his silence, I kept on washing him, moving up to his face and swooping his hair back.
I would give him the same weapon, and understand that if he would not tell me more, I would not ask him.
Was that mature or childish?
I gently washed his forehead and cheeks, wiping off the dried blood, at least it looked like no wounds were as visible as the one on his chest.
His attention finally went on me, his eyes dark.
"Sorry, Nim. I should have told you where I was going, but–"
"-But there was no way I could help in any way, right?"
This was not a conversation I wanted to have on the first day. I knew that, I knew it very well.
I couldn't help in any field of knowledge, I had no physical nor mental strength for what Lancelot was trained to do, my simple words would not make anything better.
Empty and spoiled, able to do nothing on her own, yes, that was the essence of Princess Namiya.
But I wanted to learn.