Title: Tears

Characters: All I think, but mostly Arthur and Lancelot.

Summary: Everyone is hurt on the inside and outside. One is dead. One is sad and one is angry. Very, very angry.

Wow bad summary or what? Well this is chapter four. I don´t really know what I feel about it. Kinda like it, kinda not like it so much…I really don't know.
Well it´s been a while since I updated, sorry^^! But I hope to begin on a bigger story. Hopes it works out well :)

And you know the drill. Not mine, bad gramma/spelling. Please tell, PLEASE REVIEW!

There was chaos in the yard. Cries of surprise and yells of anger flew back and forth. The horses neighed and shuffled uneasy. They were used to the noise and the blood on the battlefield, but not the fear or uneasiness that streamed out of their owners.
Vanora came running with seven children on her heels. She jumped into Bors´s arms and clung to him. Bors moaned in pain but didn´t let go of his beloved.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice almost drowning in the noise.

"Ambush" said Bors. He knelt, still with Vanora in one arm, and pulled the children into his other one. Dagonat smiled at the sight. The children neither cried nor stepped away from their father's side, as Vanora removed the bloody bandage her lover had around his shoulder. The Sarmatian blood ran strong in their veins, mixed well with Vanoras strong will and loving heart.

"Dagonet" he turned around and was greeted by a serious Jols "you are needed in the infirmary. So if you are healthy enough." Dagonet looked down at his arm. A tight bandage was tied around his forearm. The bleeding has stopped and the wound was not very deep. As long it didn´t get infected it could wait. He had been lucky compared the some of the others. Especially…

He nodded to Jols and the two men walk towards the infirmary. Arthur saw Dagonet walked away with Jols and nodded to himself. They would need the extra help.

Arthur tried to form a view of the situation. Dagonet was slightly wounded in the arm. Not something that would have consequences. Thanks to the knowledge the knight had about healing. It was worse with Bors who had been shot with an arrow in the shoulder. But he was otherwise unharmed. Morholt had a broken foot and a serious blow to the head. He would not been able to ride for several weeks. Gawain had been stabbed in the arm and had broken about four ribs. Nor he could ride for weeks. Galahads shoulder was out of joint and he was bleeding badly from a wound in the forehead. Lamorak had a large wound in the chest and a few broken fingers on his right hand. He was unconscious and had lost alot of blood. Percival and Lancelot was in the best condition. A few scratches here and there but nothing serious. Arthur wondered if Percivals luck would ever run out. The two knights were helping an unconscious Tristan down from his horse.

Arthur sighed. It was worse off with the scout. The stubborn man was seriously injured but had, as usual, said nothing about it. He had fallen from his horse halfway back to the Wall.
"Arthur?" he was pulled out of his thoughts by Percival. He looked at the younger man's face. Blood and dust covered his beardless chins. The thick layer was only broken by the drops of sweat than ran down his cheeks. "Everyone is indoors and being treated now, but…" Percival looked down into the ground. Arthur felt a knot tighten in his chest.
"Where is he now?" Percival looked up, not meeting his eyes, and pointed towards two horses. A primitive stretcher was tied between the two animals. A covered body lay still on it. Hoel.

Arthur took a deep breath and stroked a hand over his face.
"Get Lancelot and carry him inside. As soon as the wounded are seen to, we will give him a funeral there is a king worthy." Percival met Arthur eyes. The young green orbs were filled with sorrow. He nodded and ran away. Arthur looked over to the empty shell which, a few hours ago had been one of his best men and a close friend.

It was too much. He turned around and walked quickly towards his room. He closed the door behind him and began to remove his armor. He threw it into a pile on the floor and walked towards a bucket that stood in the corner. It was filled to the trench with clean water and he began to wash himself. Washing the blood of his hands, his arms, his face and neck.

The door flew open and Arthur turned around. His hands stretched out after the sword there no longer was at his side, but lay on the bed. It was Lancelot. The dark-haired man stood in the doorway, breathless and with a wild look on his face. Before Arthur could do anything other than open his mouth, Lancelot walked through the room with anger in his steps and stood so close up against him so their noses almost touched each other.

"Lancelot…what…?
"Why are you here?" he hissed and Arthur stared at him. "Why are you not in the infirmary? Why are you sitting here doing nothing?" Lancelot was yelling now. "Everyone is wounded. Gawain, Morholt, even Dagonet. And he still uses all his strength to help the others. Tristan's life hangs by a thread. We don´t know if Lamorak will wake again and Bors still have an arrowhead in his shoulder. And while the surgeon's works to save their lives; the mighty Arthur Castus just sit here in his perfect room with his hands in lap." Lancelot might as well have slapped him. The tried to say something but Lancelot cut him off before he had opened his mouth.

"We have followed you for so many years and lost more men than we should. Do you not care? Hoel threw himself in front of the swords that should have killed you. Your death became his."
"Lancelot, I know that…"
"You know nothing." Lancelot shouted and pushed Arthur hard in the chest "you know nothing about us. You are nothing more than a brainless Roman who drives us around like a pack of dogs." Arthur felt like he really had been stabbed with a sword. Lancelot gasped for breath and his eyes shot fire. His hands were clenched so hard, his knuckles had turned white. Arthur swallowed.
"Lancelot, I did not wish for this. I did not wish for Hoel to be penetrated by the enemy´s sword. I did not wish to be born only to lead you to death. I did not wish to know you, just to see you fall one by one. I did not wish to love you like brothers only to have my heart ripped out time after time. "He held Lancelot's gaze with his own.

"But I find myself lucky. I am happy that it´s me who can lead you towards freedom. I am happy to know you and I would gladly go through hundreds of battles and die a thousand times, if only it could save your lives. " He gently took Lancelot's face between his hands and brought their foreheads together.
"I love you more than anything. Do not dare to accuse me of anything else." He saw tears gather in the knight's eyes but Arthur didn´t let go of neither his face not his gaze. They both pretended not to notice the tears that ran down Lancelot's cheeks.
"I´m sorry" muttered Lancelot quietly. Suddenly Arthur thought that the grown man in front of him disappeared and the young boy he had met ten years ago stared at him instead. It almost broke his heart.

"I forgive you." Said Arthur and pressed Lancelot against him. He just hopped that his knights would forgive him one day.

Well this is it. What did you think?

Review^^