Title: Arthur's Smile
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really. Movie spoilers.
Pairing: Implied Arthur/Lancelot
Summary: Movie-verse. Lancelot reflects post-mortem.
Notes: Reviews/constructive criticism are welcome. This was my first KA fic, but not my first fic in general. It was written in a hurry after re-watching the film.

For fifteen years I served a commander who placed duty and honor above all else, save free will. I did not ask to follow him, but given the chance I would relive every moment of those years, if only to see him smile again at me the way he did today. Though war loomed just beyond Hadrian's Wall, there was peace in his face, and hope - a stranger to us all - burning bright in his eyes.

There was also love.

I once asked him why he always talked to his god and not to me. I said that I could not trust his faith, because I did not trust anything that put a man on his knees. He begged me to understand that his faith, his god, was the only thing that enabled him to live each day with some new loss. His world was crumbling around him and yet he still clung to a deity that would never answer his prayers. A god that had seemingly abandoned Briton long before the Romans chose to do so.

But not my god. My god was a man of flesh and blood, whose tears I could not face as we rode away. I believed in him, and had he bid me do so, I would have knelt before him in spite of myself.

As the years passed, I came to respect him not only as a captain but as a friend, and finally, as something infinitely more. From the moment I felt it, I vowed never to let him see. It was a dark day, one of many in that wretched country. We were fighting the Woads as always, when Arthur fell, struck across the back by a long sword. In an instant, the blue devil wielding the weapon was dead, cut down by one of Tristan's arrows. I don't remember ever thanking him, but he saved Arthur's life that day. It afforded our leader time enough to regain his strength. It also left me time enough to realize that something in me had changed. It was as though, when Arthur hit his knees, I was struck by some unseen force that clawed its way through my armor to encircle my heart. It winded me. Across the battlefield, I met his gaze and knew that I could never tell him. He bore the cares of the world on his broad shoulders. Who was I to burden him with mine?

Never, until last night, did Arthur suspect the nature of my feelings toward him. There, when freedom was so close, when I could follow him to a life of peace in Rome, he walked away from me. There was no hiding the hatred in my eyes as I looked to Guinevere. Though she belonged to the land of his beloved mother and was his match in every way, he belonged to me.

I followed him and implored him to abandon Britain - to abandon her, but he would not hear me. Not until he saw the tears glistening in my eyes. Everything was explained in a single glance, but still he remained loyal to his 'cause'. I wondered if he took me for granted all those years, but I know differently now.

As I laid dying on that field, one thought came to mind: he never smiled at her.

The End