Authors Note: Inspired by the King Arthur movie however Lancelot, although seriously injured, does not die in the final battle. This story in no way bears any historical facts about the Lady of the Lake. Although I'm using the characters from the movie, this story is its own work of fiction. Keep this in mind before you review on my historical accuracy. I would still however love to hear your thoughts on this story. Please read and review, helpful suggestions welcomed. I was inspired to write this after seeing the movie for the third time. You can also discuss this story and chat to me on my forum listed on my profile.
Disclaimer: Fan Fiction – duh - I only own the character portrayed as the Lady of the Lake.
My Sweet Lancelot
…………………
By ForestMoon
Chapter 1 - Lady of the Lake
"I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore." - Lancelot
It was a cool spring morning by the time Lancelot arrived near the eastern border of the Hadrias Wall. It has
been almost a year since he left Arthur, Guinevere and the remaining Sarmatian knights to fulfil a promise he
made to his family over fifteen years ago.
……………………………..
During the final battle for freedom, Lancelot almost lost his life when the armour piercing arrow struck him so
close to his heart. He remembers Guinevere running towards him, calling out his name. He remembers ending
Cynric's life, the Saxton chief's only son, in one last swift movement.
Then the world went dark.
It did not take long to heal the wounds he received that day but it took an entire journey to seal the hole in his
heart when Arthur announced his marriage to Guinevere.
It was then that he decided to take his leave of absence and return to his homeland in search of the truth he has
held dear for all this time – his reason for fighting. His freedom and a pledge made so many years ago by young
boy.
He left as soon as he was well enough to endure the long journey and said his farewells to his brethren making
no promise to ever return. His duty to Rome was done, his freedom granted and his heart denied by the beautiful
Guinevere.
Having no loyalties left but his own, Lancelot rode off and never looked back.
The events of the final battle on that dreadful day haunted him throughout the journey home. Images of Guinevere
plagued his every nightmare until the day he arrived on the plains of his native village.
The sky met the grass just as he remembered and then, just as the light changed into dusk, he saw that it was only
an illusion. The grass was grey and dull and the sky was a burnt crimson. The air, a horrible thickness and there
was an odour he knew all to well. This was not the land he left behind, it was a forgotten battlefield.
In his heart he knew all along that the chance of his village still being there was slim but Lancelot had to see for
himself. He rode on into the night till he eventually reached the large campfire of the unfamiliar village.
Nothing was recognizable, not the land, the people or the air. The village was meek and cold, not even the fire
could warm the loss experienced by these few remaining people.
After settling in, he sat by the fire and listened to the stories of how a Saxon raiding party destroyed everything
without mercy. Only a few people managed to get away before the attack. Sadly, his family was not among them.
That was when Lancelot came to realise that he had fought for a dream that was long gone and what he fought and
almost died for on the battle field that horrible day, was now gone too.
The only allegiance and family he had left was Arthur and his knights.
Lancelot stayed in the village for a while talking to people and coming to terms with his new freedom and the path
that now lay before him. He knew spring was fast approaching and that it was time to make a choice.
He prepared for his journey and set off one early spring morning. Lancelot was returning home to the only family
he knew - Arthur.
The journey seemed longer than before but the time away gave him a chance to breathe and reflect. Now that
Guinevere and Arthur are married, he knew that things had to change. He only hoped that he would have the
courage to face them.
……………………………..
Lancelot rounds the bend near the edge of the forest. The wall is almost in sight. Suddenly he hears a scream and
without thinking spurs his horse into a gallop and rushes towards the unknown disturbance.
He finds fresh tracks in the dirt road, a carriage and two horses. By the look of the depth and pattern the tracks
have made, he can tell that the carriage was out of control and carrying a light load.
Lancelot hurries along the path and as he nears the bend he can already assume what happened. He dismounts
and rushes down the hill towards the lake where a single small horse drawn carriage has rolled and plummeted
into the lake.
The horses must have broken free as they are long gone.
The carriage, half sunken and battered, lies still in the muddy lake's edge, sinking ever so slowly. There is no
movement and no sound.
He cautiously approaches the contraption and pears into the open window. A young lady lays awkwardly thrust
onto the side to the inner panel.
Quickly he pries open the door and jumps in to he carriage. The woman appears to be breathing but is very bruised
and cut. He wipes away some mud from her face and clears the long strands of hair from her neck.
Taking a moment to look upon her strange beauty, something he has not seen since Guinevere, Lancelot finally
manoeuvres her out and onto the lake's grassy bank.
He calls to the woman and taps her cheek lightly but she does not stir. Having no patience to try any longer, he
searches the wreckage for any clues as to her identity but finds none, then secures her to his horse and leads
them on to the fortress.
By nightfall he had reached the fortress and after stabling his horse and tending to the woman's care, he sought
audience with Arthur.
Lancelot kept his gaze low when he entered the main chamber where Arthur, Guinevere and his knights waited.
As he looked up slowly, his eyes met with Guinevere first.
There was a silent exchange between them before he looked to Arthur and a gave a quaint smile to his friends
Bors, Galahad and Gawain.
"So you have returned." Arthur began, "And you brought someone with you."
"How is she?" Guinevere adds desperately wanting so something, anything.
"You mean the Lady of the Lake…" Lancelot trails off. "She's in good hands."
"And you Sir Lancelot?" Bors shouts unable to contain his joy. "You have retuned in one piece!" He chuckles.
The other knights nod in agreement as if they were wagering on his return. Arthur steps forward and places his
hand on Lancelot's shoulder.
"It is good to see you old friend. I hope you found what you were looking for."
Arthur could tell but the look in Lancelot's eyes that what he found was best left in the past and a matter not to be
pressed further. Lancelot clears his throat gives a small bow to the king.
"I return only if you will have me. I pledge myself to you and your cause once more…" he pauses, "…old friend."
Then quaintly looks up to the queen and adds, "To both of you."