Bitter Tears
Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to their respective owners, be it myths or whatever else. Everything here is the fictional work of the author herself and, unless otherwise stated, it is all in the author's mind.
Pairings: Arthur/Lancelot
Spoilers: Spoilers. Takes place at the end of the movie.
A/N: Written as a second entry for the Jealousy Challenge on the LJ community knights500
Warnings: SLASH.
Bitter Tears
Arthur stood motionless, watching the fire lick at Lancelot's body in a way he never had, ripping him further away from Arthur than ever before. It had been too long. He had become too dependent on Lancelot. And he realised that he was nothing without his first knight.
He closed his eyes as the breeze swept away Lancelot's ashes, bearing them back to Sarmatia, back to the home Lancelot had never been allowed to see again. Undoubtedly ashes would fall to the ocean and then onto Sarmatian land, and fauna would grow here, around this place that Arthur would mark as Lancelot's grave.
And the elements would have Lancelot in ways the Arthur could not. They would caress Lancelot's body, each and every inch with fervour and dedication, with love and devotion – in ways that Arthur had never done, and would never be able to do.
And Lancelot would be free, just as he wanted.
Arthur would remain trapped in his mortality. He would grow old and wise and powerful – yet never really live. He would forever mourn the lost of his love. And he would be haunted by the ghost of Lancelot's touch. The bitterest tears shed, as the saying goes, over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
And he would be forever jealous of the elements – for they would have Lancelot for eternity, whilst he could imagine and dream and, even then, only for his lifetime.
Fin...