Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue
Dedication: To all the lovely people who liked "Smile for me"... and to Maia who reads everything I write even when she has no idea who the characters are! ::hugs::
Arthur's life was an endless winter.
Shaded by bleak grays, clouded in fog, bruised by hailstones, frozen by snow, he had always been cold.
The last remnants of heat he remembered was the blistering hatred that had consumed him as he watched his village, his family burn.
The horrors he had witnessed, the lives he had taken, buried him in a constant, frigid haze of gloom and despair.
Until Lancelot brought the sun back into his life.
Alternating widely between terror and awe, Lancelot worshipped Arthur from afar when he first set eyes on the knight.
He would stare curiously at the solemn knight, venturing shy, quick smiles that were never returned.
Then Lancelot grew up to become a knight.
Shyness, awkwardness melted off Lancelot.
He glowed with confidence, charmed with arrogance.
His smile became brazen, irresistible.
And still Arthur resisted.
Arthur reinforced his internal shields and frowned ominously at the young knight.
But Lancelot was filled with the irrepressible hope of the young and could not, would not be deterred.
Lancelot persisted in riding next to Arthur, prattling amusingly, peppering them with bawdy jokes upon which he would casually, hopefully glance at Arthur, wondering if a smile would ever crack the frown.
And Arthur had to summon all his willpower to force his lips to remain grim and clipped.
But he could not keep his eyes from dancing.
Lancelot graduated to soft, quick touches, a fleeting grasp on his arm, a tender caress of his curls, causing their lingering warmth to haunt Arthur's every waking moment.
Lancelot lit the darkest parts of his soul, touched his most tortured thoughts. He was fearless, he was reckless and he refused to give up.
And Arthur finally allowed himself to crumble.
The kiss was so soft, so hesitant, so uncharacteristic of Lancelot's usual fearlessness, Arthur was touched.
He stroked Lancelot's shivering cheek and his lips quirked up unconsciously.
Lancelot shone, melting winter into summer... and Arthur ceased to be cold.
Tendrils of warmth sneaked into Arthur's heart and it was so warm he thought the fiery ball of happiness inside him would consume him.
And he would willingly surrender.
Crystals streaked Arthur's cheeks as the frigid wind whipped at him.
Lancelot laid motionless, his unruly curls stained with crimson, his spirited, wondering eyes closed.
Consumed with rage, anguish and regret, Arthur could only gaze helplessly upon his lover.
This time, winter would last forever.