Percival appeared to be bouncing on her way to saddle her horse and ride to the coast- King Pellam would certainly appreciate her childlike eagerness, Lancelot thought as he explained how to get to the Fisher King. There were few forks in the path to throw her off course, and she was bright enough not to get lost. Her confidence would be her only foe on the trip- aided by Gawain's grumbling.
As the young squire saddled her horse, Gawain mumbled, "How long are you going to let her keep dreaming?"
Lancelot sighed, closing his eyes, "Dreams keep our resolve from fading away. Be thankful that she's not running off to fight monsters before she's even picked up a blade."
"But when she realizes the truth," the echidna considered, "the weight of that dream will crush her."
Lancelot hummed, then "Perhaps she clings to such an impossible dream because she wants to be accepted by the others." He faced Gawain, "You and her brother do a fine job of stunting her morale."
The red knight returned his stare, "All of us gain endurance from training... some of us neglect more important parts of fighting, like conviction and resolve. Everyone has different ways of building up confidence."
"Bullying her will just make her distant," he mumbled, considering the ground. "I doubt you'd want two Lancelots." Gawain, likely gawking at him now, made a startled noise- but the dark hedgehog rubbed the knuckles on his left hand as an evoked pain rose to the surface.
"What's your opinion on using the left hand instead of the right?" Lancelot wondered, half to himself.
"What- Lancelot?"
"If one of our squires practiced with their left instead of their right... what would you do?"
The echidna hummed, then, "Maybe I'd give them a two-handed sword- so that they'd be using both hands- it would make it easier to spar with them."
A hollow laugh escaped Lancelot. "That's kind of you."
Gawain glanced at Lancelot's hands, then raised an eyebrow. "I take it you wished someone had done that when you were a child."
"Evidently, I didn't have it as bad as Bors did. He and Lionel would tell me what they were doing was nothing compared to what they had to deal with." Sure, a strike across the knuckles with a stick sounded preferable to a forceful stomp, but it didn't lessen the pain for a five year old Lancelot. Whenever he'd cry out that they were hurting him, they would say he was being weak.
"The fighting doesn't stop just 'cause you fall over and start crying! If this was the real world, you'd be dead now!" Bors shouted, looming over him with a makeshift sword. The two had been free of their captivity days earlier, still adjusting to being treated like children instead of prisoners. He stepped closer, "Do you want to die?"
"N-n-n-no," he choked out, shaking with fear, trying to keep from crying, but there were some tears trying to escape-
"Crybaby," Lionel grumbled from his brother's side. "You'll never survive out there- and you'll never be a knight- you're too pathetic." And the two turned away, running out of sight to fight, leaving Lancelot alone with their words.
"So... if you ask me, encouragement would be better... in the long run," Lancelot sighed, lowering his left hand... strange how after thirteen years, it would surface as if it was fresh... not unlike the phantom brushes that haunted him the past year.
Gawain scratched the side of his head, lowering his gaze as he hummed. "I guess I should leave being harsh to the master," he joked, trying to lighten the mood back up. He laughed a little, "And maybe you should leave the courting to Lamorak, eh?"
Lancelot snuffed, unable to laugh but understanding the levity glowing in the echidna's eyes. He closed his eyes, "I thought you'd offer to take up courting; you're more successful than he is in that area."
The knight held his head high, smirking, "If you say so- though, the Lady fair seems to admire you more than me."
Lancelot's ears twitched as he faced Gawain- "But- well, it's been sometime... there might be someone else." Someone who wouldn't wake her up with cold steel against her neck, maybe.
"She's certainly beautiful enough to attract men all over Albion." Gawain grinned, "but none of them will ever be the one that freed her from that hell on earth." Before he could argue, the echidna walked towards Percival, remarking, "Looks like there's more than one person around here in need of a confidence boost."
Lancelot snuffed, brow pinching at the laughing knight... Confidence... if only, he mused as he began to turn towards the castle. "I trust you'll make it back in one piece without my help."
"Give the lady our regards," Percival asked as she mounted her horse, urging it to gallop- Gawain cursing after the keen squire and jumping on his horse to chase her down.
"Ah... you aren't leaving..." Was that a sigh, or had she hurried over to catch them? Smudges of pink appeared under her eyes as she bobbed her head- the latter, then. After assuring she was alright, she managed to ask, "Percival's going to see Grandfather, then? I wish I could've gotten here sooner..."
He watched the bobbing red and purple spots disappear along the path, "I'm sure he's well; King Pellam is rather hardy, given the circumstances." With a small smile towards Elaine, "That calibre of resilience runs in the family, after all." She ducked her head into her shoulder, the pink smudges ripening.
"Think so?" she breathed, lowering her gaze to the ground- tiny little buds of future blooms swaying with the grass. Had the queen's flowers found their way out here, or were these of the wandering variety, brought here by worn soles and saddlebags? He nodded, imagining a curious crossbreed of the two blossoming in front of them.
With a shiver, Elaine glanced up at the sun, just barely in the sky. "Goodness... I was wondering why it was so cold- it's not even morning, yet." After rubbing her arms, she turned back to the castle. "Let's go back... hopefully he's still asleep." Lancelot leaped to her side, only realizing that he'd actually jumped at the opportunity to see Galahad when Elaine giggled at him.
In the gloom of dawn, the castle halls lay abandoned, empty and silent- even in the dead of night Camelot didn't look half as forlorn as Corbenic. Elaine trembled beside him, cold... or scared?
"What happened to this place..." he wondered, half to himself, but Elaine hummed, nodding.
"Grandfather used to say that Corbenic was almost as populous as Camelot is today... before he was injured. Then they moved away... they thought his injury was an omen for the fall of Corbenic." Lancelot kept a growl from rising in his throat before Elaine continued, "But, for a while at least, it seemed like they were right... Corbenic would be plagued with something new year after year: droughts, famine, raiders..." She furrowed her brow, considering the stone floor, "Or at least, that was what my father said. I can't actually remember anything terrible happening when I was little."
Lancelot raised an eyebrow, "How long has King Pellam had his injury?"
"He was injured, ah... about six or seven years before I was born... my father became king two years after that- you see, they thought maybe the injury and 'curse' was because King Pellam was too old to continue being king, but that didn't stop them."
"Perhaps it was only a seven year plague, then," he offered, and she bobbed her head- but then again, after eighteen years, that dragon had laid waste to a struggling Corbenic... had it been coincidence? Why would misfortune lay low for such a long time before striking again?
Galahad lay on Elaine's bed, nose wrinkling just a little before she scooped him up- "I'm right here... I wasn't gone that long, was I?" She sat down on the bed, beaming down at the tiny hedgehog. "Are you angry with me?" she teased, nosing the little face. He whimpered a little but seemed to have forgiven her, nestling against her chest with only a furrowed brow- Lancelot bit his lip to keep from laughing at the tiny pinched face. Elaine smiled, petting Galahad's head as the frown dissolved.
"I'm surprised you didn't bring him when you came out to see us," he admitted, wondering if it was okay to sit next to her or if he should stay standing. "He might've started making a fuss while you were away."
She hummed, "Well, my father did put me in this wing of the castle... there isn't much use for a second living area when half of the people who used to live here have moved away, except for storage." A smile grew as she stared off into her childhood, "I used to explore this wing when I was little... I pretended that I was looking for the Holy Grail among all the dusty furniture... Whenever I found a chalice I'd show it to Grandfather, and he'd ask me where I found it, what I had to do to get to it... and I'd have to make crawling under tables and climbing on trunks into an adventure worthy of finding the Holy Grail."
Lancelot smirked, imagining the perils she'd invented as a child. "And how many Grails did you find?"
She rocked her head to the side, "Well, I think it was the seventh or sixth- that was after I found out about my magic abilities, other than healing... oh! The seventh one, yes... I found one, and I thought I would surprise him by making the chalice glow."
Elaine secured Galahad in the hook of her elbow before gesturing with her hand, "When I showed him this one, I made it glow-" lights like fireflies sparked from her fingertips, soft white fading into specks as they drifted away. "It lasts longer on an object- Grandfather leapt out of his chair and raised me up- he paraded me around the room on his shoulders." She laughed, "I didn't even know he had the strength to do that..."
Her warm smile stayed a few moments longer, before it darkened and fell away. "Father didn't think so either." Elaine returned to cradling her sleeping bundle as she explained, "He thought I was exhausting Grandfather and getting his hopes up... so my little crusades came to an end, and... that was when Grandfather left for the coast." Her finger brushed across a gray-silver strand of Galahad's hair. "I was able to go visit him, but... I think that was the happiest I'd been, before le Fay."
Lancelot sat next to her as she grew quiet, her eyes a night without stars. He felt the castle growing even more empty without King Pellam. The rooms full of hidden objects became dusty rooms with too much furniture... and he doubted her father let her run off to the coast often. No other children to play with, her father busy keeping Corbenic alive... She probably stayed in the garden, to be near her mother's flowers... and that's when she was abducted by Morgan le Fay.
After a few moments of silence, she shook her head, "Sorry... I didn't mean to get so melancholy when it's your last day here." She considered Galahad, smiling, "What exactly are we going to do with you, Galahad?"
He stared at her profile, summoning both the courage and the right words to say... "Elaine..." Her eyes met his, the fear from that morning muted, but still boring into him. "I..." he had to take another deep breath to find his voice, "I'm sorry for reacting as I did." No emotion peered out from her eyes. "I...I had no right to..." The words receded, and after stumbling all he could offer was, "I'm sorry."
She turned away from him. As if apologizing would wipe it away... the room froze over as he hung his head. He was surrounded by those fearful eyes until a whisper rose from the silence.
"Why didn't you...follow through?"
Lancelot's right hand shuddered. "I... expected you to fight back...To convince me not to kill you... I... I wanted you to fight back," he admitted, glancing at a curtain of black hair. "But you didn't. You just... surrendered."
Galahad wiggled in his sleep, still trying to bury himself in his mother, who watched over the hoglet. Another long silence as he waited for her to respond.
"I was afraid that your answer would be much worse..." He could almost hear the air filling her chest. Elaine faced him, eyes glittering as she smiled. "I should have said this sooner, but... thank you for sparing me."
They were in the woods again... "I- you don't need to thank me for that," he fumbled as fire crackled nearby. The side of his head started to itch, just behind the ear- "I've probably given you nightmares."
She lowered her eyes, "I was a little afraid when you arrived... But as soon as you held Galahad, I knew you wouldn't hurt him... I wasn't afraid of you hurting me as much as I was afraid for Galahad."
Lancelot hummed... "You would have fought back if you knew you were pregnant, then?" She nodded, her arms wrapping around her child, as if warding away cold or attackers. He considered the wall behind her, hoping that if she had said so, he would have believed her. Even so, they were alive...
"What were you planning to do about raising him?"
Elaine watched the hoglet's mouth expand and contract in time with his chest. "I don't think raising him in Corbenic would do him any favors..." she sighed. "Briselda told me there's rumors going around about me already."
He hummed, "Gawain and Percival heard some of them as well- they don't believe any of them, of course."
"Father thought he could keep this a secret and have me here... I wanted to stay elsewhere, even if it was just in that fishing town with Grandfather." Her eyes moved around the ceiling as if hearing footsteps... Trapped again, he thought, in an empty castle.
"Briselda mentioned taking me somewhere quieter, once... She thought I could use more fresh air without worrying about being discovered, but I think my father turned her down." Another breath, "Sometimes I feel like I'm suffocating..."
"Wouldn't it make sense to send you away if you have a sickness?" Lancelot asked. "If you were ill, he could have easily said you were being secluded to keep it from spreading to the rest of the castle."
A cough-like laugh, "I said the same thing to him, but he thought sending me away would rouse more suspicion."
Galahad squirmed, a little whimper rising from him. She cooed, petting his head before her eye caught Lancelot watching them. "Do you want Sir Lancelot to hold you?" she whispered. "I know you like his fur." The knight chuckled before she passed the baby to him. As soon as he laid Galahad near his favorite headrest, the child smiled. Lancelot prayed his heartbeats weren't disturbing the hoglet- they were pounding in his own ears.
What if Corbenic fell victim to misfortune again- to a fearsome beast with a lust for blood? Corbenic had nothing but old castle walls to defend itself... If Galahad lived in Camelot it would be a different story-
Fool! You can't shelter your illegitimate child in Camelot- not without explaining yourself to your king. Arthur might overlook a drunken tryst, but he certainly wouldn't look past you willingly spending a night with a woman you thought was his Guinevere! At that revelation, the king would probably run him through with Caliburn while the rest of the Round Table cheered. Besides, King Pelles might not appreciate his grandson being taken out of his own household. If Galahad and his parentage were made known, Pelles would probably force the both of them to be married- causing a horde of political ramifications to ripple across Albion.
All of this for Galahad's safety? There had to be safe, secluded places he could be raised- he just needed to find one...
"There must be somewhere you can grow up," he whispered, stroking the silver infant. "And once you've grown up, I'll teach you to become a fine knight." Elaine laughed- and Lancelot's ear flicked. "Uhm, as long as that's what he wants."
She smiled, "I'm sure he'd want to be like the great Sir Lancelot."