Notes for this story: Ah, the many different kinds of love – romantic, courtly, mother and child, father and child, and that between siblings. Let's see what we can do with all these kinds of love with these characters. Of course my take on the characters deviate from the stories in the Arthurian legends and a myriad other works of fiction about them. But I try to take them where the TV series seemed to be pushing them - if not a little beyond to where my own imagination wanders. This story follows my story "The Shadow Warrior", and it makes a couple of references to previous stories of mine.
Love: Courtly and Otherwise
A further adventure in the Adventures of Sir Lancelot - #6
By Bineshii
It had been quite a journey on horseback from Benwick to Camelot. Lady Elaine was saddle sore but Aveline had been excited and jumped lightly down from her mount in the stable yard.
"Everything is so much bigger here, Mother!" a wide-eyed Aveline said, her head turning constantly to take all the out buildings and constant motion of a couple hundred people about their tasks.
"Do not gawk, Daughter. It is unseemly. You are not a woodcutter's daughter seeing a town and castle for the first time."
Lady Elaine could not wait to be in the quarters her son had arranged for them, so they could bathe and change clothes. She would also like to lie down for an hour or so. This she did get, before evening meal where her son introduced them to more people than Lady Elaine could possibly remember. She, her son Lancelot, the king and queen, and Aveline then stayed up late talking by a brightly burning fire until Aveline's eyelids drooped with tiredness.
The next morning, Aveline was pulling the blankets off her mother very early and asking for help with her hair. She had seen several hair styles the day before that she wanted to try out. So now, Lady Elaine was selecting a silver hair clasp to hold the complex braiding she had just completed with Aveline's long dark hair. Every day, the girl looked more like her father but in a pretty, more delicate way. She would miss her when she returned to Benwick in less than a month while Aveline stayed at Camelot. But it was time to start letting go of her youngest child.
"Mother, may I go find Brian now? I do so want to see him."
"Aveline! What is your fixation with this boy?" Elaine asked as she walked around her daughter, inspecting her gown. "I realize that your brother, Lancelot, has been encouraging your friendship with him. But I would like you to seek the company of other boys here, squires of GOOD families. What about Sir Lionel's son?"
"Euw, he is my cousin!"
"Only once removed."
"So let him stay removed."
"Aveline, really! And there is Sir Kay's squire – the handsome one, not the chubby one speaks with a lisp."
"But Nate is so egotistical and getting more so every day, Clara, Sir Bors' daughter told me! I prefer the chubby one. He, at least, has a sense of humor."
"Aren't you being the egotistical one yourself, with something negative to say about all these fine young people?"
"I am sure I will become acquainted with many fine, young people here, Mother. And the Queen liked me, didn't she? I answered all her questions about deportment and protocol. I think I did well, because she wants me to stay."
"Yes, the Queen has indicated to me that you will be acceptable as one of her girls. I hope I will not be disappointed in you. You do realize that there will be no more tree climbing or wrestling with dogs on the floor, or shouting across a hall to get someone's attention?"
"Yes, Mother! Of course I understand that. It is about the tenth time you have told me."
"Alright, you may run along now. But I want to hear all about your day when we meet for mid day meal. I want you to tell me about at least two other new people you have met besides hanging around with Brian."
...
Lancelot saw Aveline with a pretty new hair braiding arrangement scurrying off somewhere as he knocked on the door to his mother's room.
"Enter, Son." Lady Elaine knew her son's knock.
"Well, Mother, are you well settled in here?" said Lancelot as he peered around the door, smiling.
"Don't just stand there, come in, come in. Sit with your mother awhile and tell me what you are up to this fine day."
Lancelot was not sure what his mother was up to with her request to see him, but he was sure he was about to find out. He had armed himself with a cheerful demeanor to embrace whatever the Lady Elaine had in mind for him.
He sat in the spare chair and slapped his palms on his knees, and smiling brightly, said "I saw Aveline running off. So have you released her to her own choices for today? Now, tell me your own plans for your first full day at Camelot castle!"
"Oh, I just wanted an amiable chat with my only son. I was reminiscing about your childhood and wanted to share some thoughts with you. I remember you at age ten, My Son. You were such a rascal. Do you remember the time you carved a small wooden sword for Aveline with a hunting knife your father gave you? I caught you teaching her some cuts, blocks, and parries with that little wooden sword. She was only four years old and you had her cutting and slashing away and shouting blood curling oaths. I soon put a stop to that! Do you remember why you did that?"
Lancelot fell silent. Elaine suddenly regretted bringing up the incident when she saw the look on his face. He shrugged his shoulders and turned his back to her, going to the window and looking out as if something outside himself had suddenly drawn his interest.
She silently reviewed the incident, remembering that she had punished him harshly, not so much for teaching the sword techniques as for teaching a young girl what she considered vulgar male oaths. He had been trying to make his sister over into the little brother he had been wanting. But now he had Brian. Both his gentleness and sternness with the boy made Elaine realize how great her son's needs and capacity for love really were. Perhaps she should give the boy a chance. Brian idolized her son and would probably make a competent knight and life-long battle field companion for him – the little brother Lancelot had always wanted. But she balked at the thought of Brian as a suitor for her daughter.
With his hands gripping the window sill, Lancelot finally said "I was a child then, Mother, a lonely little boy in a house full of adults who didn't understand my needs. But that was long ago. What is this conversation leading up to?"
He looked at her pointedly, and then strode to the door, poised as if to leave.
She felt alarmed, knowing she might have gone too far with this conversation opener. She sighed. Her son had an aggressive edge which often seemed insensitive, but she knew it was a deliberately crafted front to hide a deeply sensitive nature which she had just penetrated with the sharp sword of her tongue. Lancelot, at the age of six, had been deeply disappointed when he had gotten a baby sister instead of a baby brother. And the day that his mother caught him teaching Aveline swordplay, he had defended his actions by saying "Well, I am getting a little brother one way or another!" Remembering these details, she spoke kindly "I am sorry I was unable to provide you with a baby brother."
He walked back to his chair and sat down. Taking her hand in both of his he said "Mother, I hope you have not been feeling sad about that all these years. Of course I don't blame you for that! If you called me here to settle feelings from the past, be assured that the man I am now does not feel the same as the child I was then. And even back then, I had my cousins, Bors and Lionel, as occasional companions."
"And now you have Brian."
Always back to Brian, Lancelot thought. What was her objection to the boy to be this time? Might as well let her get on with it. He said "Yes, I have Brian."
"The little brother you always wanted."
Lancelot blinked. Yes. His mother had the right of it. He had not thought of Brian in this way, consciously, before. But yes, that summed up neatly, his feelings about Brian. "Okay Mother, now that you know," he said teasingly, "your adopted son could use some kindness from you."
"I fully intend to tolerate your love of that boy. But he is not my son. I can never love him as you do, but I will treat him with the respect I give Master Michael. That means I will address him with the respect he deserves as a loyal retainer of our family. But I do not approve of your pushing him and Aveline into anything beyond respectful friendship. I would like you to see that she develops friendships with young men of good families while she is here at Camelot after I return to Benwick. I am making a sacrifice in not insisting that my youngest daughter stay unmarried to tend to her aging mother, giving her comfort for the remainder of her life as most families would expect of the youngest child. If she is to find a husband, it has to be one of good family."
Lancelot withdrew his hands from his mother. They now rested lightly on his knees, but with fingers digging into his palms. "I have my own resources, Mother. I have the estate of Joyous Guard that I liberated from a tyrant and now have title to, with King Arthur's assent. Since I have no children of my own blood, and even if I do beget such in the future, I intend to leave this estate to Brian. Surely, that puts him in the category of good family!"
Lady Elaine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Lancelot, I have no say over how you dispose of your own property. I agree it is an estate of equal value to many, including Benwick, which is all that is left of the kingdom your father once had. But..."
"No buts, Mother! Families rise and fall in wealth and esteem over time. Go back far enough and you will find a humble origin to even our family, I am sure. There are those who rise from humble origins through intelligence and talent and become leaders. Brian is showing signs of being such a one. Surely you can see that! Brian is worthy of Aveline. Besides that, they like each other. They are well suited in personality. Aveline, outside of being female, is very like me. She could easily grow to love Brian as much as I do. Why not just let them find their own way, if that is their destiny?"
"You know full well that destiny needs the direction of parents! Okay, I am not asking you to keep them apart. I am asking you to encourage her to spend time with many other boys besides Brian. And I am asking you, with your influence with the Queen, to have her see to this also!"
Lancelot gripped his hands together. "That much I will do. But I will not discourage Brian and Aveline spending time together."
"Agreed, reluctant, though I am. But do not push them at each other as you have been doing."
"Me? Pushing them together?"
"Don't be dissembling with me, Lancelot! I know you have been encouraging them. Cease this now! Take your boy off to your estate, now and then, and on your missions for Arthur, leaving Aveline to seek companionship with all the others here at Camelot."
"That will happen naturally, Mother, as part of the boy's education he will often be away from Camelot. But if one day, he and Aveline decide to bind their lives to each other, I will not object and I hope you will not either."
"My objection, I see, would be useless at that point. But we are not there yet. There are many distractions here at Camelot, let Aveline explore them. Do not interfere if she starts to gravitate to some young man other than your Brian."
"Agreed."
"Good, now leave me. Our conversations always wear me out."
"Oh, Mother, you wear me down more than I do you, you know." And he picked up her hand, raising it fondly to his lips. "We at least agree on non-interference with Aveline's social life and have settled the fact that I do not hold any grudges about how you raised me, okay?"
She nodded.
He rose and left her room.
...
After leaving his mother, Lancelot went to his own room to tidy up a bit before going down to the practice yards. He was rummaging in his clothes chest looking for a clean night shirt. It would take the castle laundry people a couple of days to clean the bundle of clothes he had just assembled, even with the promise of a large tip. He had two nightshirts, a luxury even among the well-off. Not finding the extra one, he remembered that he might have lent it to Brian. The boy's own night shirt had grown tight on him and Brian was on the point of passing it on to a younger boy. Sighing, Lancelot rose from a squatting position and lowered the chest lid with a bang. He would go check Brian's chest in the squires' dormitory for that extra nightshirt.
...
At the squires' practice yard, through his peripheral vision, Brian was aware that Aveline had just joined a group of girls avidly watching the boys' practice bouts. There usually was a bunch of them hanging around, sizing up the future romantic possibilities. Brian did not mind...most of the time. But today, he wanted no distractions as his sparring partner was Sir Kay's squire, Nate, who was annoyingly developing Sir Kay's superior voice inflections and body language. If the lad outdid Brian in this bout, Brian would probably never hear the end of it.
Aveline waved to Brian, and Brian nodded quickly, never taking his eyes off Nate.
"What are you nodding at the girls for, kitchen boy? They were waving at me - someone who is actually eligible for their attention."
"None of the other squires call me kitchen boy anymore. They know better now! I guess I will have to teach you to know better too," Brian said with a sharp edge to his voice as he picked up speed in his attack.
Nate, surprised, took five steps back. Then he made a big mistake. Before Brian could close the distance between them again, he shouted "Hey you there in the blue dress, meet me in the rose garden after this practice session."
The girl in the blue dress was Aveline. Nate didn't have time to notice her gesture of denial before Brian was on him with fury. Brian's blunt practice sword clanged against Nate's, carried right through to a full chest impact which practically knocked Nate off his feet.
"Leave my lady alone!" shouted Brian, with furious and swift sword strikes that backed Nate across the yard in the manner in which Lancelot often did to Brian. Nate's back was against the wall and he tried to raise a hand in surrender. But Brian would not let up. Nate tried to side step, flinging his sword aside and raising both hands defensively. Brian was disciplined enough to drop his own sword, but brought a gloved fist up and hit Nate just above the jaw so hard the boy's head bounced off the wall. Nate, with a dazed look, removed a gauntlet to reach up and touch his lip that was now split and bleeding.
"Halt! Immediately!" Master Hugh shouted, walking over toward the boys with large strides. "Brian! What has gotten into you?"
Brian took a step back from Nate, breathing hard, but kept his eyes on Nate in defiant anger.
Master Hugh stood between them, hands on his hips, looking from one boy's face to the other. "We do not have heated grudge matches here in the Squires School! Both of you know that! What is this all about anyway?"
"He insulted a lady. MY lady," said Brian.
"You don't have a lady and you never will," Nate spat back.
"You know I do have one! You saw us talking together at mid day meal today and you saw us holding hands while walking in the rose garden earlier in the morning! You just got what you deserve for insulting her!"
"I was insulting YOU, not her!"
"Alright! Both of you are at fault here. But Brian, you were more at fault. Nate dropped his weapon and gestured for mercy. You hit him after he conceded. Therefore, you shall have the more severe punishment. You both must muck out the stable of squires' mounts. Nate for two days, Brian for a week."
With that, Master Hugh stalked off, shaking his head.
...
Back inside the castle, Lancelot knocked on the door to the squires' dormitory and got no answer, so he peeked in. No one was there, so he entered and went over to Brian's chest. Squatting and opening it, he noticed everything in it neatly folded because Master Hugh drilled neatness and discipline into the boys. There were often surprise inspections. So Lancelot lifted things out carefully. Ah, there were two nightshirts of the same relative size, so Lancelot lifted one out and set it aside. He was about to return the other folded items, when he spotted a handkerchief at the bottom of the chest.
"That's Aveline's. What's Brian doing with that," he wondered. Then he raised an eyebrow and smiled. He put the items back in the chest carefully, deciding to put the borrowed nightshirt back too. He didn't want Brian to know he knew Aveline had given him a favor, making Brian her champion. The boy should be allowed to keep his secret. Lancelot could sleep without a nightshirt for a couple of days.
"Well, Mother, it seems it is already too late to sandbag Brian and Aveline's relationship," Lancelot whispered to himself.
...
At evening meal, Lancelot walked past Brian without stopping and said "my quarters, after the meal."
Brian understood what the edge in Lancelot's voice meant. He was in trouble. He only poked at his food, knowing exactly what Lancelot would be bringing up shortly. Lancelot must have had a chat with Master Hugh.
Later, Brian stood uneasily in Lancelot's quarters while the knight sat on the edge of his bed with arms folded across his chest.
"Would you mind telling me your side of the incident in the squires' practice yard this afternoon?"
Taking a deep breath, Brian said "No Sir, I really don't want to discuss it. But I am not objecting to my punishment. I do accept responsibility for my actions."
"Oh you do, do you? And you have nothing to say about injuring another boy after he surrendered to you and put down his weapon?"
"I realize what I did was wrong. And no, I have nothing to say."
"This is a serious offence, Brian. Defending people against bullies is my basic ethic, indeed, the basic ethic of King Arthur's entire reign. I thought it was yours too. Your admiration of it is why I took custody of you and have been defending your right to be here. But today, you took on the role of a bully."
Brian felt awful. He had let everyone down. Fear crawled up his spine. Was he going to be sent away? And would he have to tell Sir Lancelot about his secret pact with Aveline? Would that be a betrayal of her?
"My lord, I was defending a lady that I thought Nate had insulted. But as Nate, after the fact pointed out, I was actually responding to an insult to myself. Yes, I was wrong to have hit him after he dropped his sword. I will, of course, apologize to him, though it hurts deeply to have to do it to such a scoundrel."
"That you will do. And in addition, you will carry the laundry down to the scrub house every day for the laundresses at dawn and back up to their folding room inside the castle from the drying lines, at dusk. For a week."
Brian closed his eyes for a second. It was going to be a busy week of drudgery for him. "Yes, My Lord."
"Do you now have anything to say?"
"Should I start my punishment right now? It will be dusk shortly," observed Brian.
Lancelot tried hard not to let even a hint of a smile crease his face. "Absolutely." And he dismissed Brian with a wave of his hand toward the door.
Brian turned to leave, closing the door softly behind him. Lancelot lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head. He knew all about Nate's faults: other boys had complained to their knights about him. Each knight mentored his squire or squires in his own way, so Lancelot would not be questioning Sir Kay about his methods. Yet Lancelot was glad that Brian had not brought Aveline into the conversation, for it was easy to guess whom Brian was protecting. He had defended "his lady" with silence. He had accepted responsibility for an offence without excuses. And he had not complained about the multiple punishments heaped upon him.
Lancelot watched the descending sun move its shadow up the wall as he reviewed his actions, trying to think if anything else should be made of today's incident. This was a good lesson in discipline for Brian. The boy, probably unlike many of the other squires, would learn to control his anger and never let it escalate into blind rage again. He also knew that Nate would probably humiliate Brian further during the apology. Nate would not become the good man that Brian would become, which is why Lancelot thought Brian worthy of his sister and Nate, despite his family background, would not be.
...
The next morning found the king and queen at their morning consultation before separating for their differing tasks of the day. There were always guests whose comfort the queen saw to; while the king made the rounds of discussing the ever evolving political situations with whatever estate holders were present in Camelot at the time. Balances of power always needed adjustment, favor requests and deals were always in process. Arthur and Guinevere worked well together in keeping the kingdom functioning. But, as in any marriage, there were underlying tensions from time to time.
"I trust you, you know."
Arthur's eyes were looking down at his queen while she was intent on her embroidery. She said nothing, at first, in her disquiet. Marshalling her resolve, she turned her face up to him in a half-smile.
"I know you do and I would never give you cause to think otherwise."
He patted her shoulder affectionately. Men were bound to flirt with her, mostly to flatter him, but Lancelot... Lancelot was different. The man admired Guinevere for herself. But he was also dedicated to Arthur's vision and was the best tool Arthur could employ to keep peace in his kingdom. The man was intelligent and honest even if a little too stubborn at times. Arthur liked the younger man, even if his extreme dedication to purpose often irritated the other knights. Arthur trusted him and relied on him.
Reassured, Arthur went to the window to look out on his knights at their daily exercise. Lancelot was down there working with the boy again. One day, Brian would find a place at the Round Table, for sure. Gawain was giving Kay a bit of a thrashing, but Kay was finally rallying and showing some spirit when his back was almost to the wall. They were all in light armor without any identifying heraldry. But Arthur knew each of them by their movements.
"I am fortunate in the men I have assembled around me. Extremely so, don't you think, My Dear?"
Guinevere put down her needle and rose to join him at the window. "It is not fortune that drew them here. It is your inspired leadership. I do believe that what you are making of this kingdom will be an inspiration to others long after we are gone."
"You really think so?" he asked earnestly.
"I do."
He smiled down at her, placed an arm around her shoulder and bent to give her a peck on the check.
"Perhaps our children..."
She stiffened and let out her breath slowly.
He patted her shoulder again and smiled "We should not give up yet. Miracles do happen. It was many years before Sir Andrew and Lady Helen had their first child. And look at them now...six strapping boys."
She nodded and took his hand. He squeezed her hand and said, "Well, I must go down myself and take a little exercise with my men. It does keep up the morale."
He left her standing there, but after he was gone, she stayed at the window. Her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight as she watched the knights far below. Her eyes started tracking Lancelot, as always. A thrill went through her at the prowess of this remarkable young man who seemed to practically worship her with his soft adoring eyes whenever they were alone together. The two of them could just sit and talk or sit in companionable silence for hours. It was sad that she did not yet have a child to distract her from idling the hours away with an admirer.
She left the window in restlessness and went to lie down on her bed, pressing her face into a pillow. Why was she not yet blessed with a child? It was expected, it was needed, and it was her duty. Maybe she and Arthur were not compatible physically even though they were compatible in every other sense. Was possible that she could conceive a child with someone else? Someone younger and very virile...someone she knew loved her, though he never spoke of it. His eyes told her. She was sure she could entice him into anything; she knew she had that much power over him. It would be so satisfying to make love with him! A man like him - certainly he could father a child.
No! That was not the way of chivalry, at least not how it was ruled to operate under the spreading influence of the Christian religion. Among the Celts, well, the so-called 'friendship of the thighs' was still allowed and even expected by warriors who performed deeds in the name of a lady. But this was a murky area in a world of changing morals. She loved her husband and would not do anything to hurt him personally or to tarnish his reputation as king. So, she would again throw Angela between herself and Lancelot. He was not hers to take. Besides, Arthur had cousins; he could choose one of them. He could pick the best one to mentor as his successor. That might be even better than having a son who would be bound to follow him regardless of his talents or lack thereof.
She could still hear their voices, far below, and Lancelot's bright laugh as he encouraged Brian to fight back. Why shouldn't a woman love two men? She pushed her face deeper into the pillow to muffle her sobs.
...
Mornings, when it was cooler, were good times for vigorous fighting practice. But after the mid day meal, people wanted to relax a bit – at least those privileged enough to have some leisure time. Hunting was a pleasurable pursuit, even if done second hand with hawks, allowing the knights and ladies to socialize while still providing some meat for their table.
Angela removed the tethers from her hawk and let it push off her arm; beating its wings to gain altitude and pursue the game bird it had been restless to go after. She smiled at Lancelot. Fresh duck for dinner, perhaps?"
Lancelot nodded, following the hawk with eyes shaded by one hand. "That would be nice, as long as I don't have to retrieve the prey or the hawk from a tree."
"Why would you have to do that?" She asked, laughing.
"Oh, never mind." And to quickly changing the subject, he said "there will be another dance in the great hall in a few days. May I claim you as a partner for most of the dances?"
"I am afraid you will have to ask other ladies to be your partner at this dance, Lancelot. By the way, I noticed that you don't mind at all to be dancing with the Queen."
"True, she seems to enjoy my company when the King is distracted by necessary business. But have you found a dancing partner you prefer to me? If so, you have wounded me deeply," he said, dramatically placing his hand, with fingers spread, over his heart.
She laughed again. "Of course not! There is no one who I enjoy dancing with more. It is my brother again. His last letter which arrived just yesterday has alarmed me. It is not what he actually says, but what he doesn't say. It is these restless aggressive moods he gets into. His ambition often outruns his common sense. I must hurry home and try to discourage his latest threat of aggression on his neighbors."
Lancelot rolled his eyes and spoke to her severely. "Angela, it is not your duty to discipline him. You are his sister, not his parent. Besides, this is man's business. I will ask the King to send a mediator, perhaps Sir Gawain or myself, to quash this latest threat of aggression."
"You most certainly will not!" said Angela, raising her voice. "Who are you to say what my relationship with my brother should be?"
Lancelot was quick to become heated in return. "Who am I? Only an interested suitor! The Queen seems to think we are good company for each other and I was beginning to think so too. There are many men who would be interested in courting you if you were not always running off to babysit your untrustworthy reprobate of a sibling!"
"What a vile thing to say to me!" Angela retorted, jerking her horse away from Caledon's side and spurring it off in the direction the hawk had flown.
"Well if that is the way you feel, off with you then!" Lancelot said, despite realizing she had galloped off too far to hear him. "Sometimes I dearly wish that I was not so attracted to the fair sex!"
"Me too," said Brian who had ridden up behind Lancelot.
Lancelot turned and glared at Brian "And who asked you? If you are so interested, you can go after the Lady Angela and help her retrieve her hawk and its kill!"
With that, Lancelot wheeled Caledon in another direction and took off.
"What did I say?" Brian asked himself. "I was only trying to agree with him." He sighed and started to follow Angela.
...
King Arthur had not ridden out to hunt today. Instead, he had conferred with Sir Bors after mid day meal about the situation with King Marhaus, having had a talk with the Lady Angela, herself, earlier that morning. Now he was scheduled to meet with Master Hugh about the promotion of two young men from squire to knight in the coming week. A decision of filling their places in the Squires School would also have to be made from the list of those who had applied. He was about to send a page to fetch Master Hugh when Lancelot came pounding up the stairway outside his study. The king sighed. Master Hugh would have to wait as calming a vexed Sir Lancelot was a task best tended to immediately.
"Enter," said Arthur before Lancelot had time to knock.
"My Lord," the young man bowed stiffly, almost without pause in his gate as he entered.
"Sit, Lancelot," Arthur said graciously, indicating a chair with an outstretched open hand.
Lancelot dropped into it, elbows on the armrests and hands clasped, leaning forward slightly.
"Something on your mind?" the king asked.
"Yes. It is King Marhaus. The Lady Angela has informed me that he is up to something again."
"I am aware of that. She spoke to me this morning about it. I am sending Sir Bors with her to sort things out."
"Why not send me?"
"She made a point of asking me not to."
"Oh, did she now!"
"She did."
"Well I warned you awhile back about him. And didn't my warning turn out to be spot on even though I was temporarily banished for it?"
"Lancelot, it is not the truthfulness of your danger analyses that I have an issue with, it is the brashness in the way you often deal with people. Threats and ultimatums often back fire. Negotiated settlements are always longer lasting than those achieved by the sword."
"I realize that, My Lord. I have often negotiated settlements without drawing a sword, or at least after putting my sword down. I thought I did that quite well when settling the dispute between these self-named gentlemen, Urgan the Strong and Sir Melius the Mighty."
"True, you did. And I laud you for that. But you are not a disinterested party in this particular case. It is my understanding from the Queen that you would like to stay on good terms with King Marhaus' sister. If so, it is best that you stay out of this particular dispute. Trust me on this."
Lancelot leaned back into the chair in resignation and chortled "You sound like my father. You often sound like him."
"Sometimes, Lancelot," the king said gently, "I see in you a need for one, since you lost your own father at a critical stage in your development. I think that is worse than my own situation, where I never knew my father but had the kind guidance of a good foster father, Sir Ector, and then, of course I still rely on my first mentor and advisor, Merlin."
Lancelot relaxed and smiled. "You are indeed fortunate in that. And you are lucky, I think, to not have a mother like mine around to trying to be the voice of my father in addition to her own strong voice."
Arthur nodded smiling and saying "But you would miss your mother just as much as you miss your father, should she prematurely leave this world. Be content with that, Lancelot. And believe me, you will have a better chance for Angela's affections if you are not the one to curb her brother's ambitions."
Lancelot knew the king was right. He often was right, once Lancelot reviewed their occasional disputes in hindsight. He flicked his fingers on the armrests. At least avoiding this mission left him more time to entertain the queen before his next mission came up. And it gave him more time for training Brian, and to watch the progress of the little romance he had set in motion.
"Anything else on your mind, Lancelot?"
"No, My Lord. How about a game of chess before evening meal?"
"I would like that very much." Arthur stood up. "Let's go to the knights' recreation hall shall we?"
Any thoughts of meeting with Master Hugh now forgotten, the king left the study with Lancelot, talking of techniques of sword repair and a new blacksmith who had arrived looking for work at Camelot. If Lancelot had ever desired an older brother or a foster father, he would have had to acknowledge that he now had one.
...
Merlin watched the people at the evening meal. He shrewdly noticed the shifts in relationships indicated by shifts in body language and voice tone. There were Brian and Aveline, sneaking off together while that handsome but unprincipled boy, Nate, glared after them. Angela had moved two places away from Lancelot and every time he looked in her direction, she turned her back to him, smiling at someone further down the table to start a conversation. Lady Elaine looked vexed when she noticed Aveline's place empty and asked Sir Kay "where is that handsome squire of yours? I wanted him to show Aveline that new dance step that someone brought over from France."
The king leaned forward to address Lancelot sitting on the other side of Guinevere. He said something which made them both laugh. That threesome was a deep well of possible trouble which he had to keep under watch. When Lady Elaine returned to Benwick, the king's sister Morgan, another troublesome person, was being allowed a short visit - something about a couple of young relatives the king wished to bring to Camelot for mentoring. Lancelot disapproved of that and Sir Kay had his reservations, but Mordred was of age to be taken in hand for martial training. And other than Lancelot's mother there were several Elaines like that Elaine of Corbenic whom he thought was coming to visit Camelot soon. So many Elaines to know about, for wasn't there one from Astolat also?
Merlin repressed a yawn. So much to keep track of, tweaking things here with a quiet word, and there, applying a spot of magic. But he should ask leave to retire from the table soon, leaving the endless realignments of friendship, love, and power, to the quiet corners in the lengthening shadows of the evening.
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