A/N: This is just a little something I wrote for my Arthurian Legends and Romances English class last year, and I decided to share it. The assignment was to write a story from the point of view of a minor character, and it was supposed to be based around The Once and Future King by T.H. White. This takes place sometime in The Ill-Made Knight, and it is from the point of view of Sir Lamorak. His death is literally mentioned on one page, not even, and I expanded it into this oneshot.
The concept I was using was the idea that one's life flashes before his eyes as he dies. Le oneshot is made up of various bits of Lamorak's actual death scene and memories of his, mostly from his childhood (with the exception of the last two) Please let me know what you think of this! :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing -_-
It isn't safe here. You should flee from the castle. She is dead now, and her sons are coming for you. Her sons will come for you if you do not flee ...
You are seven years old and getting into your usual mischief. Ten year old Aglovale, ever the responsible one, warns that you will get them all in trouble, and Percivale is already refusing to come along for the fun.
"Come on, Percy! Don't be such a craven," you laugh, prodding your younger brother.
"But the orchards are forbidden!" he whines. "We can't go in there!"
"Maybe we'll find the Questing Beast," Dornar muses dreamily. "It would make Pa so proud."
"What are you four doing now?" Your sister Dindrane is forever tattling. Better not say what you're planning...
"We're just playing at hunting the Questing Beast," you inform her innocently with a wide smile.
There are footsteps echoing in the hallway. You look behind you. No one is there. They're coming for you ...
"I saw it this way!" you insist, tugging on Dornar's arm as the two of you traverse deeper into the forest. The trees around you are getting closer and closer together; this is farther than you've ever gone before, especially with little Dornar in tow.
"Are you sure?" he asks anxiously as he reaches for your hand. "I don't think the Questing Beast would like such a dark place ..."
"Sure it would. Father hunted for it in Sir Ector's forest for ten years, remember?"
"Yes, but-"
"This way!" You and Dornar wander for some time, you thinking all the while what a marvelous prank this will be. A fork appears in the path just ahead of you. "Look, Dor- why don't you take one path, and I'll go the other way? That way we can find the Beast faster." With some reluctance Dornar agrees, and the moment he is out of sight, you take a seat to wait. After a few minutes, Dornar would reach the end of the path and realize his mistake. He would turn around and come home, and you'd have a good laugh over it ... but an hour passes, and there is no sign of Dornar. I should go and look for him, you decide.
You find Dornar huddled at the foot of a tree that is a short distance off the path, hugging his knees and crying. "Lamorak!" he cries upon noticing you. "Lamorak, I thought I found Questing Beast tracks and I followed them, but then I couldn't find the path and I heard a noise and- oh, Lamorak, how shall we ever get out of here?"
The prank is no longer funny; it was only meant to confuse Dornar a little. You give him a reassuring smile. "The path is only a little bit that way, Dor. Come on; we can find the Questing Beast another day." The two of you make your way back out of the forest.
The sounds are nearer now. They can be nothing good. You run for the end of the hallway. If you can just make it to the open, any fight will be much fairer- you may even have the advantage. In this narrow hall, though, any fighting is impossible. There is a doorway just ahead of you.
"You do it."
"No, you do it!" You and Dindrane glare at each other.
"You knocked over the vase!"
"But you shoved me into it! You should be the one to tell Father."
After another moment of glaring, Dindrane sniffs and tosses her head. "Fine. I'll do it, because I am so kind and selfless a maiden," she states dramatically, pressing her hand to her forehead before tapping on King Pellinore's door. Your sister steps inside. "Lamorak broke the vase," she informs him.
You turn the handle and push open the door, preparing to sprint for the way out. Sir Gawaine stands there, glowering at you. He grips his sword tightly, and his eyes are black with rage.
"I can't believe you told Father on me!" you snap at Percivale. "I was hardly doing anything!"
"You pushed Dindrane into the mud," he states calmly while sorting a stack of cards into neat piles, each one organized by color and in numerical order. "It's not nice to push girls into the mud, Lamorak."
"She was ordering me to bring her flowers! I'm going to be a knight someday- knights don't pick flowers, not even for girls."
"There's more to being a knight than fighting, you know. You've got to be nice, too."
"Gawaine, this won't solve anything! Please, let him be!" Gareth, who stands behind his brother, begs.
Gawaine brushes him off. "Shut it, Gareth. You don't know anything."
"Well, you've really done it this time, Lam," a familiar voice chuckles. You look up from your place on the ground and frown at Aglovale. "It doesn't take much to get Mother upset, but to make Father yell? That requires a certain skill, which it seems you've got."
"I wasn't trying to do anything that time, though! I just wanted to make a present for Mother's birthday ..."
Aglovale shrugs. "You're always pranking everyone, though, and so now they just assume that you're into some sort of trouble, Lamorak." He crouches beside you. "You want to be a knight someday, don't you?"
"Of course I do!" you cry. "That's all I've ever dreamed of- being a knight like Father and joining the Round Table!"
"Then sometime you've got to grow up." He shrugs. "It's fun to play jokes- I do that sometimes, too- but you have to learn when you're going too far and when it's still just about fun. Your jokes aren't always funny, Lam."
"Oh." The two of you sit in silence for a while. "Aglovale, will Father really keep me from being a knight?"
He turns to you. "Of course- he'd probably send you out to sleep with the pigs and clean horse stalls all day."
"He wouldn't!"
Aglovale nods seriously. "Oh, yes he would." There is a twinkle in his eye- he's teasing.
"You're joking."
His smile appears. "'course. Father's just mad for now; he'll be over it in a day or so. Come on; let's go find Gilbert. I heard that his father gave him a new falcon to train- maybe he'll let us help." The two of you run off together in search of your friend.
There is a searing pain in your back, and you gasp as a blade pierces clean through your armor and into your torso. Biting back a scream of pain, you turn your head to see your attackers: Sir Mordred and Sir Agravaine. There is pride in the eyes of Agravaine, but Morded's face betrays nothing. He feels nothing.
You fall to your knees. Things are starting to become blurry- the world of color and light blurs into pain and darkness and nothing. Gawaine's voice is fuzzy and distant: "Our mother is avenged, Gareth. You should be happy."
You and Sir Gareth are setting off on the quest for the Holy Grail today, and you are the first to leave. Dornar is off dreaming (as usual) while Percivale thinks and prays about the quest. You exchange a look with Aglovale as you ride towards the gates of Camelot, and he gives you a nod, which you return. Aglovale knows that you will return.
Your mother is standing just outside the castle gates- a sad and solitary figure. It has only been a short while since your father was killed, and she has not taken it well. There are still signs of tears upon her face, but she puts on a brave smile as you ride past beside Sir Gareth. "Don't forget to come back," she calls to you as she waves goodbye.
You smile. "I'll be back soon, Mother."
The floor comes rushing up to meet you. There is nothing but pain- pain is everywhere and you can feel nothing else.
She is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen- raven-black curls and pale skin and red, red lips. There is something dangerous about her- something sick and twisted and wrong- but you do not notice it. The woman smiles at you and tells you her name. "I am Morgause of Lothian."
The pain is fading now. A feeling of warmth spreads across your body as pinpricks of light appear in the darkness. Everything fades away and you-
