A Lesson in Vengeance

Episode: A Lesson in Vengeance
Category: Gen
Rating/Warnings: K
Author's Note: I throw a lot of hate at Elyan, so I thought it might be nice to do something different for a change.


The young trainee watched from a distance as Sir Elyan was laid to rest, unashamed of the tears that were streaming down his face. The knight had died honorably, as was to be expected, sacrificing his life in the protection of his sister the queen.

He'd assumed that Guinevere would linger when the others started to leave, but she was one of the first to go, striding away with a curiously bland expression on her face. Strange… though he supposed it wasn't his right to question her lack of emotion. Maybe that was simply what queens did, feeling obligated to maintain their dignity in public while grieving behind closed doors.

Yes, that must be it.

When he was finally alone, he approached the shore of the lake, holding four white flowers in his hand. Perhaps it was a silly thing, but it had made sense to bring one in tribute for each month he'd been lucky enough to be acquainted with Sir Elyan. And for each, there was a memory he released to the wind with a sigh of bittersweet gratitude.

The first flower floated away upon the recollection of the noble knight visiting the blacksmith's forge, informing the awestruck youth that his own father had once owned it.

"But… but you're a knight! I thought all of you were…"

Elyan had shaken his head with a gentle smile. "Thanks to King Arthur, every man has the chance to earn a knighthood, as long as he proves himself worthy."

Releasing the second flower, he blushed a little as he remembered that it had taken him another month to work up the nerve to approach the knight as he'd been practicing on the training grounds.

"Sir Elyan? How would a man prove himself worthy?"

"Well, you have to be a skilled fighter. That's important. But more than that, your loyalty must lie with King Arthur. You must be willing to give life and limb in service to the kingdom of Camelot."

The third flower followed, along with the memory of those first few weeks of training alongside one of the finest knights Camelot had ever known. It had been an enormous honor, one that had earned Elyan constant and effusive gratitude, until with a soft chuckle, he'd informed the younger man that he was driving him to distraction.

"How am I doing?"

"Well, you're a little rough around the edges, but you handle your weapon with a surprising amount of skill."

"Do you think I'll ever be good enough to try out for the knighthood?"

"I think that with determination and hard work, you can do anything you want to do."

He was weeping again as the final flower fell into the water, remembering Elyan's promise that they'd start the next level of training when he returned from the pilgrimage to his father's grave. But of course, that hadn't happened. The queen had been kidnapped, and then…

"How much longer do you think it will take me?" he'd asked at their final session.

Elyan had given him a companionable pat on the shoulder. "Not long now. I'd say a few more months if you keep up with the hours you been putting in each day. Don't worry, you'll make a fine knight. Camelot will be lucky to have you."

Smiling wistfully as he watched the flowers drift away, the trainee was so caught up in his memories that he didn't hear the soft sound of footsteps from behind. It was only at the sound of a gently cleared throat that he whirled around with a sharp gasp.

"Am I disturbing you?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" he stuttered out, staring up at the larger man with anxious eyes. "That is… I was just…"

"You're the boy Elyan has been training these past couple months, aren't you?"

"I… Yes, I am. Forgive me, I know I shouldn't be down here. I didn't know him as well as the rest of you, and…"

"If he meant something to you, you have every right to be here."

"Thank you," he said after a moment, relieved that the other man didn't seem the least bit offended by his presence. "I… I'm sorry for your loss."

"And I'm sorry for yours."

He'd just started to turn away when he was halted by a massive hand on his shoulder. "Listen, I know it won't be the same," the knight said in a rush. "But if you still need someone to help you with your training, I'd be glad to make myself available."

"Are you sure?! Oh, that would be wonderful, Sir…?"

"Forget about the Sir – just call me Percival. Tomorrow morning, 9 AM sharp?"

The trainee flashed him a brilliant grin. "Thank you, S… Percival. I'll be there!"