Title: Give and Take
Pairings: None really, A/L friendship
Rating: PG
Warning: None
Summery: Arthur's reaction to Lancelot's death on the battlefield.
Disclaimer: Their not mine. Movieverse is Disney, characters belong to the legend
A/N: This is sort of an extension to that scene, I guess you could say. I'm coming from the idea that Arthur and Lancelot were good friends, almost brothers.
Give and Take
As the rage toward the Saxon subsided, he felt it. Felt in the pit of his stomach that something was not right, as surely as he felt the sword, heavy in his hand. He scans the battlefield, counting his knights. He saw Tristan fall, and knows that there should be four knights cutting through the invading Saxon forest. He counts three, then sees Guinevere's small form hovering over someone. He does not need to be told it is Lancelot, nor did he really need to count the knights. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he felt the arrow rip through his shoulder, felt him fall to the ground, heard Guinevere scream. He tried to block it out, tried to deny that something like this could happen.
But the fact remains, it did happen. Lancelot fell protecting a women who, for all Arthur knows, he disliked, maybe even hated. Lancelot always picked the worst time to be noble. Arthur ran across the field, praying to every god he knew that he was mistaken, that the fallen man with the curly black hair was not Lancelot, but some woad or Saxon. He knows it can't be. There is no one else with Lancelot's hair, or build, or armor. Arthur reaches Guinevere's side, sinking next to the body of his friend. A single glance tells Arthur all he needed to know. He flings aside his helmet and looks imploringly to the heavens.
"It was my life to be taken! Not this. Never this." His voice lowers and shakes with the tears he would shed. A hand grips his shoulder, squeezing slightly. Arthur meets Guinevere's eyes, and they both think the same question: "Why?" Her eyes are blurred with tears, as are his, he is sure. He hears a rustling and notices that Tristan is being laid next to Lancelot. Two brave knights sharing the same fate. "My brave knights, I have failed you. I neither took you off this island nor shared your fate."
Arthur rises, and looks over the battlefield. It is littered with bodies; Saxon, British, and Samatian. He looks back at the two men that lie in front of him. 'Was it worth it?' he asks himself. 'Was the loss worth the gain?' He looks down at Guinevere again. She looks up at him, her eyes full of tears for her savior, but her face full of joy at the victory. Arthur wonders how she can separate the loss from the gain.
'Because' the answer is whispered softly to him 'Because she knows that sacrifice is inevitable.'
"No." he whispers fiercely, unaware that he is speaking out loud. "Their sacrifice was not inevitable. They were here only because of me. He followed because I asked him to."
"No." Guinevere whispers. Arthur turns to her, shocked. "He followed you because he believed in you. As did Tristan, as did Dagonet, as did all of your knights. But he and Tristan followed of their own free will. Their death is not your fault."
Arthur shakes his head, but allows himself to be taken away from the battlefield. He will see that the two men are buried with all the splendor and rite that their sacrifice demands. But he cannot hope that the memory of this day will fade. He cannot hope that the searing pain in his shoulder, the memory of Guinevere's scream, the look on his face as he fell, all these emblazoned images, will fade. He cannot hope, but he must, for it is all that is left for him.