So sorry for the enormous wait for this chapter. It's not that I didn't feel like writing it anymore, I just had a hard time trying to make it sound less... cheesy. I have this tendency to see the cheese factor in a lot of gooey romantic stuff. But then I thought about this: Sonic and the Black Knight is set in the middle ages where chivalry and heart throbbing romance was pretty cheesy now, but totally in back then. So if things do sound cheesy, do try to keep in mind the time period that Black Knight is supposed to reflect.

Thanks for all the reviews, +favs and +alerts.

Kathy: I will check out your story, however, unless I'm truly interested in reading it, I won't be fully invested. This is not a reflection on your writing skills and abilities, but rather on my enthusiasm. If I am to read it, I would prefer that I really want to so I can provide you with proper feedback.

Azure/Guinevere and other fan made Arthurian versions of canon characters belong to me. Official Sonic the Hedgehog characters and plot belong to SEGA.

Normal POV

Lancelot swiftly traveled alongside the carriage until it arrived in the settlements of Deep Woods. Once they arrived, the carriage driver pulled the horses to a slow trot until they stopped. People gathered around them, either curious to the sudden arrival of such a large carriage or they were already aware of the carriages arrival, the latter of which seemed more likely, given that Percival had sent out messages to the outer towns about incoming food rations and supplies.

Most of the people who came out were children, likely fetching supplies for their ill parents. Lancelot's heart felt heavy with guilt and disappointment, not just for the King for ignoring such problems, but for himself as well, for not seeing or doing anything about these people's suffering. The people of Camelot, the people he was supposed to protect were suffering and he didn't know about it! Instead, he just followed the King's orders like a lapdog, training night and day in the castle.

These thoughts of guilt were pushed back when he remembered his other reason for accompanying the carriage: to see her again. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of her, before her image appeared before him. She did not notice him right away; clearly she was focused on helping distribute the food so that everyone would get what they needed. Once he saw her break away from the carriage with a box of rations in hand, he made his way to her side.

"May I help you?" he asked her. She nearly jumped, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Sir Lancelot? W-what are you doing here?" she asked, bewildered. He gently took the box from her arms and carried it for her.

"Sir Percival organized carriages to bring food to the outer towns. I thought I would accompany this one to make sure it would arrive safely."

"Oh, I see…" she said, her eyes drifting away from him.

"I also came to see you," he added.

"Y-you did?" she asked, surprised and quickly turning her head to face him.

"Yes, which one is yours?" he asked, gesturing to the small huts.

"This one," she said, leading him over to a small, run down hut on the corner of the street. She pushed aside the curtain that made up her door and held it aside for Lancelot to enter. He quickly scanned the interior, though there wasn't much of it for him to see. He easily spotted her bed, a table and small counter opposite to them, where he set the box down. From the looks of it, she had only one room, which she used for several purposes. "I know it's not much, but…" she started.

"No, it's nice. Many would think that a large castle is homey, but it gets rather lonely sometimes," he said.

"I certainly know many who would love to trade accommodations with you," she joked.

"Haha, well if it means I get to be that much closer to you, than I'd be happy to agree to trade with someone," he said with a laugh, causing her to blush. "You may not understand it as I do, but I am envious of, Guinevere."

"How so?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Everyone in the castle is so focused on their status, their money and themselves. It is rare to meet one so selfless as you. But here, it is different. Material wealth is not as copious and the people are closer. It is as if status and wealth are more attractive than the love and connections we feel for the ones we care about. Am I crazy to be thinking this way?"

"No, it's not crazy at all," she said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

He turned to face her and could almost feel himself heating up as her hand lay on his shoulder. While she touched the metal of his armor, he could almost feel her touch as if it were directly on his skin.

"There is another reason I came to see you," he said, slowly pulling away.

"What is it?" she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

"When we first met, you left in such a hurry that you dropped this," he said, pulling out the journal. "I would have given it back to you right away, but I was already late for a meeting with the King."

"Oh Lancelot, I've been looking everywhere for this. I thought I had lost it for good when it didn't turn up," she said, taking the journal from his hands and holding it close to her. "Thank you for bringing it back to me. I don't know what I'd do without it."

"Forgive me, but I couldn't help but take a gander at its contents," he confessed, hanging his head.

"It is all right," she said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. "It's such an old journal and I can't even read the script."

"Yes, I didn't recognize it. I thought perhaps one of the scholars in Camelot Castle would be able to provide me with a translation, however, none of them are familiar with the script."

"Oh, well thank you for trying, Lancelot," she said with a smile.

"If I may ask, what is so important about a diary that you cannot even read? I do not mean to offend you, I am simply… curious," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well, growing up I didn't know my family. This journal is the only thing I have connecting me to my family. The couple who raised me told me that it was written by my mother. I've been trying to decipher its meaning for years. I just need to know my family and where I come from. You must think I'm being silly…" she said, nervously laughing at herself.

"No, it's not silly at all. I do not remember my parents very well. I was raised by the Lady of the Lake."

"The Lady of the Lake? I must admit Sir Lancelot, you are becoming more interesting every time I see you," she said with a smile.

"Well, I certainly hope so. I would hate to become boring to you," he said, stepping closer to her while gazing into her green eyes. "I-I don't mean to be so forward with you Guinevere, but I would like to see more of you."

"But you aren't done seeing me now," she said with a playful smirk.

"That, I am not," he said in a low whisper. He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his before closing the space between them.

See what I mean? Even as I read it now, it feels cheesy. But given that it's medieval times with knights, it should be fine. I hope to work more on Tales of Knighthood now that I've crossed this little roadblock. We've still got quite a ways to go before the plot of the actual game =3=

Next Chapter - Broken Hearts: As Lancelot and Guinevere begin to spend more time together, an unfortunate setback threatens their entire relationship.

~ZP