Chapter 4: Love Songs

The Lady held true to her promise, appearing at the Willow a week later. As months passed and the world turned cold, they met beneath its branches many times. Lancelot slowly grew more comfortable in its shadow, and quickly learned to take on a new persona as easily as the Lady herself. Every night she would leave, saying that she could see too much of his face, and always he asked when he would see her again.

The Lady always replied, "Why, would you like me to write you a love song by then?"

Sometimes the question was coy and flirtatious, sometimes it was cool and disdainful. But it was always part of her goodbye, a teasing challenge left behind for her gallant knight.

The last night he had seen her, he had finally risen to the bait. "Would that song be as beautiful as the others you sing, my Lady?"

She had paused, the slight darkness of a blush appearing on her cheeks. "Eight days," she said in the instant before she rushed away.

Eight days of moving through the monotony of daytime life, waiting for his next chance to sit with her beneath the Willow. Though he tried to keep it from his mind, he found himself wondering if she would write him a love song. If she did, would he know it was for him? He did not know the origin of the Lady's songs, and she had sung many songs about romance or passion to guide him to the Willow.

Would she write a new one for him? Did he want her to?

He carefully arranged his affairs so no one would miss him that night, grabbing a thick cloak before moving through the castle and out into the beckoning night. A light layer of snow littered the ground, but thoughts of the Lady and their Willow kept him from feeling the chill in the air.

With the cold holding the world still, her call came crystal clear. She was calling him, calling Lancelot.

And the wind, I know it's cold

He settled into himself as he walked to the willow, standing stark against the white ground. With the snow reflecting what little light there was, everything looked so much clearer than it had in the shadowed fall.

She looks up to the mirrored glass
She sees a handsome horse and rider pass
She says, That man's gonna be my death
'Cause he's all I ever wanted in my life

He dropped everything he'd been and felt in the days he had been away from the Willow, becoming himself again – becoming Lancelot. His Lady was waiting. He saw her footprints in the snow, guiding him to her.

And I know he doesn't know my name
And that all the girls are all the same to him
But still I've got to get out of this place
'Cause I don't think I can face another night

Lancelot slowed as he listened to her song. Whether he wished the Lady would write him a love song or not, he still hoped this was not written for him. She sounded so sad.

Where I'm half sick of shadows
And I can't see the sky
Everyone else can watch as the tide comes in
So why can't I

He could easily see her now, seated on her usual branch as if it were a throne, face turned up toward the moon.

And it's raining
And the stars are falling from the sky
And the wind...
And the wind, I know it's cold

Her silhouette seemed dim against the night sky, but he could imagine her colors – chestnut curls and chocolate eyes, the thick cloak shielding her figure but unable to ever hide her wide smile.

I've been waiting for the day
I will surely die
And it's here
And it's here, for I've been told
That I'll die before I'm old
And the wind I know it's cold -

There was no smile on his Lady's face now. He picked up his pace again, nearly running the remaining distance to the Willow's sparse curtain.

But there's willow trees
And little breezes
Waves and walls and flowers
And there's moonlight
Every single night
As I'm locked in these towers...

"My Lady?"

"Lancelot. I wondered when you'd come."

Her voice sound subdued, as though something heavy weighed on her mind. As often as they had spoken in their time together, she was never willing to discuss life outside the Willow – was it those things that were upsetting her now, or had something wrong in their sanctuary?

"I'm sorry if I've left you waiting, my Lady. I do hope you'll forgive me." He accompanied the formal apology with a deep bow. Such things had often delighted her in the past, and the young knight wanted nothing more that to raise her spirits. "Will you come down?"

"I don't know, Lancelot. It seems safer to me up here."

"Then let me join you."

It took him little time to scale the Willow's trunk. In the many nights he'd spent in its branches he had become adept at navigating the living maze. He settled himself on the adjacent branch, where he had often listened to her sing.

When Lancelot turned to face her, the Lady was regarding him coldly. This on its own was not so odd, but he still felt concerned. Trying to lighten the mood, he said "I hope you're not the Queen of Hearts tonight. I'm rather fond of my head."

Her cold demeanor break down, but the smile he received still wasn't quite right. "No, I'm no queen. Of hearts or anything else. They're pesky things, anyway, why would anyone want to be the ruler of them?"

"Diamonds are far better, in my opinion." Lancelot watched her turn her face away again, looking up at the sky as if it held the answer to some question hidden inside her. "I think we should go to a ball. A bit of dancing might be what my Lady needs to cheer her up."

Finally, she laughed. "You've never been interested in cheering me up, Lancelot."

"You've never seemed as though you were truly sad."

She turned to him in wide-eyed shock, sitting in silence for a moment before sighing. "You'll be the death of me, Lancelot."

"Oh? Are we enemies tonight, then? If so, please warn me before going for your blade; last time, I nearly jumped out of the tree from shock. That would have really been the death of me."

"You're sounding more like a court jester than a knight."

"If my Lady requires a jester, then that is what I shall be." He broke a few sticks from the tree and stood on his branch, making an attempt to juggle. Though the Lady seemed to be doing her best to remain somber, a giggle escaped each time one of his 'batons' dropped to the ground. "Anything to hear your laugh."

"Lancelot, why do you keep coming back?"

He nearly lost his balance before grabbing a branch above him. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Tell me anyway."

"Well..." Lancelot settled himself down on his branch again. "It's just so different from regular life. Everything I could never do there, I can here. I've explored the world with you. Why wouldn't I come back?"

"The fact that it's different was exactly what you hated about it."

His eyes settled heavily on her, gray irises shining. They had never mentioned those first two nights, when a boy ventured to the Willow with the intent to destroy it. "My Lady, you shouldn't listen to what he said. He isn't Lancelot, and you should never give his words so much as a Knut's worth of your time."

"Don't do that, Lancelot. It's a lie, and you know it – he was as much you as anything else."

Lancelot glanced down at his feet. "It doesn't feel that way. I'm not sure he was me at all. This is me. All of me. Maybe he's in here somewhere, but he's so small. He's what I become when I've been shrunken down past all recognition."

"Do you think he still hates me?"

"I don't know what he feels about you, my Lady. I've never asked him. Why should I care? I'm the only one who gets to see you."

"And how do you feel about me?"

He slowly raised his eyes back to her. "I'm your knight. I'll defend you from anything. Including him."

"I don't need to be protected, Lancelot."

"I know that. I still want to."

For a long moment, they were both quiet. He gazed up at the moon, wondering what had come over his Lady. The conversation seemed to have run dangerously close to taboo. What was worrying her? Did she think he was going to abandon this place?

She started humming the melody of the sad song she had been singing earlier. Her voice always seemed to clear away the cobwebs from the little-used pieces of his soul, and even in his worry for her he could not help but love that voice. Even if her siren song pulled him down into ruin, he didn't think he could ever regret having heard it. This time here was a shield, guarding him against the dangers of the day – guarding him from himself.

"Do you consider yourself a danger, then, Lancelot?"

"Did I say that out loud...?"

"Yes, but I do understand. I always felt the same way. The Willow was a way to make sure that no piece of me could waste away. It's so easy to kill pieces of yourself with the choices that you make out there."

Lancelot nodded. "I'm surprised it wasn't too late for me."

"Do you think everyone could be this happy, if they had somewhere like this to go?"

He looked over at her, but the Lady wouldn't meet his gaze. "Are you happy, then?"

"Yes. I suppose that's what scares me."

Lancelot moved off of his branch to sit beside her. "That isn't something you should be afraid of."

"Perhaps we should have that ball after all." The Lady slipped from the branch, making her way to the base of the tree. Lancelot had little choice but to follow.

For a while, they danced among the twisting shadows of the leafless Willow, taking turns providing music. He had hoped that a familiar game might ease that odd sadness, but she remained unchanged.

Finally, he said, "What is it that's upsetting you?"

The Lady stepped away from him. "Lancelot, what if this isn't just pretend anymore?"

"Was it ever just pretend? I always understood that it was real. Real in a different way than usual, perhaps, but that doesn't mean anything we've done is a lie." He reached out his hand to her, hoping she'd come back to dance with him. Instead, she backed farther away.

"Maybe you're right. Still, I should go."

"Go? It's still so early. Maybe my Lady's eyes are super-human, but I can hardly see a thing." Lancelot felt a small pang of guilt for the lie, but he wasn't ready for the night to be over.

"It just doesn't feel right tonight. We can meet again in four days, alright? Goodbye."

As she turned away, he called out to her. "Wait! Aren't you going to offer to write me a love song?"

That sad smile returned to her face. "I don't have it in me to tease you, Lancelot." Without another word, she walked away.

His Lady had talked about their lives beyond the Willow, left early, skipped her usual goodbye...

Something had gone terribly wrong, but he had no idea what might have changed. For the first time since he had embraced the world of the Willow, he felt powerless.

Author's Note

Today's song is Shalott by Emilie Autumn.

Question of the week: What's one thing that always makes you smile?

Second to last chapter - which means this is your last chance to guess who the characters are. I've gotten some interesting guesses from friends who read this. :-P

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. See you next week.