Lancelot
When Lancelot awoke, the first thing he saw was the canopy of trees and branches stretching out above him. The many different colours of green were like curtains, draping over him to protect his eyes from the blinding sun. Lancelot could see the light blue of the sky peering through gaps in the dense leaves. It seemed it was going to be another clear, cloudless day in a forest full of life and colour.
His view of his beautiful surroundings were ruined however by the terrible aching pain in his back. Lancelot was used to this now, but that didn't stop him from groaning out loud and believing for a few moments that he wouldn't be able to walk. Lancelot hated feeling like an old man.
After a few moments Lancelot sat up, ignoring the nagging pain in his back, which was steadily beginning to fade. He always got backache when he slept on the forest floor, and he had been sleeping on forest floors a lot lately. Lancelot never stayed in one place for too long; he travelled all the time, stopping at small villages and enormous cities, trying to find work, trying to find a purpose. Most jobs that he could find were temporary and people didn't want a strange, ragged man who never had a real home to stay for long.
Over time Lancelot had done many different jobs, from lifting heavy objects to cleaning out stables to cleaning swords and shields. All jobs seemed pointless to Lancelot, as he couldn't do what he loved to do; fight for what was right, become a knight, make a difference. Despite this Lancelot did not complain, these jobs may be small, but they helped pay for food and shelter for a few nights and sometimes even some decent transport for him. But as soon as the job was done, he was no longer needed and the money dried up, Lancelot would be on his way again, looking for somewhere else to stay and somewhere else to work.
The constant travelling and odd, meaningless jobs was not what was bothering Lancelot this morning, as he was a hard working man and was grateful for what work he could find. What was bothering him this morning that made him sigh to himself and shake his head, and stare at the forest floor covered with dead leaves, were his dreams.
He had been dreaming about Gwen again.
Lancelot couldn't help it, he tried not to think about her, but when the night drew in like a dark cloud and Lancelot closed his eyes, he could see her face. Most dreams were simply memories of when he first saw her, and when they encountered each other again. Other times he dreamt of her sitting alone, staring at the stars in the night sky, or sitting with him. Nothing much happened when Lancelot dreamt of him and Gwen together again, they just talked, he could never remember what about when he woke up, but the conversation they always had seemed to make Gwen smile, and that was the most important thing.
It had been almost a year since Lancelot had seen Gwen, and it had been almost a year since had had to leave her once more. He wondered what Gwen felt about him mysteriously appearing, and then disappearing again. If he ever saw her again, would she be pleased to see him? Lancelot didn't dare go to Camelot, knowing full well that he was not welcome there. But Camelot seemed to be the only place that seemed like home; perhaps that was because it was Gwen's home.
Once Lancelot dreamt that he had returned to Camelot, and Gwen was thrilled to see him, so much so that they ran away together without even looking back. But what were the chances of that happening? Gwen's heart belonged to Arthur, and despite their shaky past, Lancelot liked Arthur, he was a good man and he couldn't take Gwen away from him, Lancelot saw the way Arthur looked at her, it would be too cruel. Despite Lancelot constantly telling himself this, the dream still stood out clearly in his mind, almost as clear as his memories of her, and he was sure that sometimes he had the dream again.
Trying desperately to forget about Gwen, Lancelot got up, stretching out his aching limbs before rummaging through his supplies, which were sitting beside a smoky fire, to get something to eat. His food supplies were beginning to run low; he would have to find a job and some food soon if he didn't want to starve. Once food supplies had got so low Lancelot was forced to steal some food from a small village, the village people caught him but he managed to outrun them. That was another place Lancelot was now well aware he was no longer wanted.
After eating a breakfast of slightly stale bread and an apple, Lancelot went to his horse. He felt very lucky and grateful for this beautiful chestnut coloured stallion. Usually the horses that Lancelot rode were old or injured, and it wasn't very long before he felt sympathy for them and set them free in the forest to be their own master, or sold them on when he was in desperate need of money. But this horse was different, it was young and strong and he certainly had no plans to sell it. It was given to Lancelot by an old man who he had helped dismantle some stables, as the poor old man could no longer take care of his horses.
The old man was very kind and good to Lancelot, he had very little money so offered Lancelot shelter in his own house and shared his own food. Lancelot was very grateful for the man's kindness and the old man was very grateful for the company. However soon the job was done and Lancelot had no other work. The old man offered him to stay for a while longer, but Lancelot kindly refused, he needed more work and the people in the village were very suspicious of Lancelot. So as a thank you for all the work Lancelot had done the old man gave him one of his horses before he left.
Lancelot reminded himself that if he came across the village again he should visit that old man and thank him again for the horse as he rode it through the forest. Despite such a cloudless sky the air was beginning to grow cold and some trees were beginning to lose their green leaves. Lancelot knew he would need to find a permanent place to stay for a few months, he couldn't sleep on the forest floor in the winter. But it would be harder to find a more permanent job now the world was growing cold, especially in villages where the crops were no longer growing.
So preoccupied with his thoughts and worries, Lancelot didn't realise that the horse was taking him up a sloping hill through the forest and that the trees were beginning to disperse. Suddenly the forest was behind him and Lancelot found himself standing out on top of a hill, looking around at a view that stretched out for miles on such a clear day.
To his surprise Lancelot found himself looking out at the great castle of Camelot. There was no mistaking it, it was the most beautiful castle for miles around and was probably the biggest too. Lancelot hadn't realised that his journey was leading him towards Camelot. As he stared out at this grand view his mind immediately jumped to Gwen. She would be behind those castle walls, he was sure of it. He only had to travel a few more miles and he would be in Camelot and he would see her again. The thought made his heart leap in his chest for joy. But then he reminded himself that the King would also be in Camelot, and so would Arthur, and they probably wouldn't be very pleased to see him. Lancelot might even be locked away for stepping back in Camelot, and Gwen might not be pleased to see him, or worse Gwen wouldn't even be there.
Lancelot shook his head, it was a bad idea to even think about going back to Camelot, it would be best if he just passed over, and Gwen didn't even realise he was there. But something at the back of his head told him that he would see Gwen once more, and that this was not the end for them. The flashing image of her smiling face appeared in his mind again. Lancelot didn't believe the voice in his head, that he would see Gwen again, but there was no harm living in hope.
After staring at the castle for a few moments, Lancelot and his horse moved away from Camelot. He decided that today would be best if he was just a stranger that no one noticed, passing by.
About half a mile away, a young woman saw a mysterious figure on a grand horse standing on top of a hill in the direction of Camelot. Gwen felt like she knew who the stranger on the horse was, but he was too far away for her to know who it was. After a few moments the motionless figure moved on, away from Camelot. He was only a stranger passing by, who no one else had noticed. But Gwen let out a sigh as if she had just missed the opportunity to see someone who was very dear to her. Something at the back of her head seemed to know who it was, and hoped that the man might pass by again soon.
This is just a one shot, but i'm thinking about perhaps making it a proper fic, so to speak. But i'll be going away for a while so won't be able to update, what do you think? Reviews much appreciated :)