Title: The North Wind (3)
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: The Valley of Lights was a mythical place, home to Gods and magic. Arthur Pendragon vowed he'd find the glacier of the North Wind, and bring proof of its existence back to his village.
Warnings: injuries, blood
Word Count: 500
Prompt: #293: I'll be home for Christmas
Author's Notes: Previous parts on AO3
"Where are we?" Arthur asked blinking dazedly.
The last thing he remembered was going down the slopes of a mountain, the Guardian holding him close and secure. His body getting heavier and heavier. Now he was staring at the entrance of a cave. Blue-tinted icicles hung from the ceiling, elongated crystalline spikes. Ice stalactite. The walls were covered by hardened snow.
"This is my humble abode," the Guardian answered. "Come."
Arthur was still relying on the Guardian for support. Moving too fast meant a shooting pain would render him useless until it went away. He ducked his head, afraid he'd might hit one of the icicles and stepped inside. Behind them the bright colourful lights were being replace by soft morning light. The Guardian brought him to the center of the cave where a small lake and four tunnels spread in different directions, in there the blue mixed with green. When he was helped to sit on what appeared to be a bed he realized he was in a chamber of sorts. The furniture there looked like it was made of ice too. It was white and pristine. Only, it was soft and comfortable.
The Guardian moved about in the space followed by Arthur's fox. He smiled knowing the creature had chosen to stay by his side.
"I'll have to see your injures," he said standing in front of Arthur. He'd taken off his cloak and was about to do the same with Arthur's. He wanted to protest because he was fine, just tired. His fox bumping his head against his leg had Arthur's changing his mind.
Arthur kept his eyes on the Guardian as he worked diligently with his garments until Arthur was bare chested and trembling from cold. His long, cold fingers pressed against his side making Arthur wince in pain.
"Your stomach and side are bruised and you have a cut close to your navel," he said, but it sounded more like he was talking with himself, rather than telling Arthur the extent of the damage he bravely—and stupidly-he had ignored. "And I assume you haven't been sleeping like you should."
Arthur shook his head, "I promised my sister I'd come back," he said, his teeth chattering. "I said I'd be home in time for the midwinter celebrations. I said I wouldn't leave her alone. Not me."
Arthur gasped when he felt a flood of warmth spread from between his ribs up to his chest and sides, the Guardian's hand was poised there, his eyes had gone inexplicably golden and was speaking in a tongue that sounded mysterious and strange, like the howl of the wind as it passed through the mountain ridge.
"You need to rest and regain your strength before you can leave," he announced, his eyes blue again. He pushed Arthur down on the bed. "Come find me when you wake up."
He walked away leaving Arthur alone to wonder if this was a dream and he had fallen under the spell of the ice.