Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character names, save my own original creations. I do not wish to be compensated for this work, nor do I wish to infringe on any copyrights held by any stakeholders of the movie King Arthur. This work is an original creation, based on the legend of King Arthur and his knights.


Scribe Notes:

All: It's been so hectic at work, and I just had to get these up this weekend, driving me nuts... Thankfully I have two weeks before my spa vacation! So I apologize if I am late reviewing your chapters, for those who I am reviewing. I get to be at work on a holiday monday tomorrow, and was at work all day today! Blach...

On to comments:

ElvenStar5: I'm sorry I didn't get these up before you went to Spain. I hope your vacation was wonderful! It sounds so exciting! I hope that these chapters were not what you were guessing at all. (grin)

Calliann: Dial up is horrid. You are right, it was much more suited to Lancelot's style. He had mentioned it before, and so we finally see it. I;m so glad I made you laugh with that comment! It was the perfect opportunity to exploit Bors' nickname for Lancelot. I hope these chapters are a surprise for you, and you enjoy!

Ailis-70: I had this next chapter written from three different ways. I looked again at all three after I got your review. the one that is posted is a compilation of two of them. You made me think about what I wanted to portray and it really gave me a chance to slash and burn the c hapter I originally wanted to post. I hope this one works better. You made a lot of sense, and thank you for that!

And yes he does. I have a picture of Ioan with bare feet and jeans... yum... sexy piggies indeed. He had big wide flat feet... I have officially crossed over to the "pathetic" side, I think... (grin)

Elsfire: Thanks for reviewing! Go for whatever inspiration you can get from my story! That is a great benefit of this forum. Write away! Let me know when you have it posted!

Hypersquishy: He is going to talk about Gareth, err... he did talk about Gareth. So glad I made you laugh, its important to laugh when there is drama. It centres you.

Mlle. Opera Ghost: Thanks for reviewing! Summer is a horrid time to try and dedicate to writing, especially if you go on vacation, have outdoor hobbies etc. Me, I am stuck at work on a gorgeous long weekend! Here are your updates, and I hope you enjoy very much.

lilstrummrgrl527: The lines in this chapter were historic in nature, I'll admit. I really played on some of the character traits here and took them to silly levels. It was so much fun to give them a fight scene where they just end up spitting names at each other. Yes, Gawain's other reaction would be just that. (grin)

And I am obsessive too, it comes with the territory. Even though these are characters from a movie, they feel like mine completely.

Cricket05: thank you! Wow, in one sitting? Amazing! I find Lancelot easy to write, but Tristan harder. The easiest is Bors, and Gawain and Galahad I feel like they are in the middle. I had no clue how to tackle Dag, so he got left out this time. In Dust Devils, he's back. I thought about him for awhile, and I think I can "get" him now. Thanks so much for your review!

annependragon: So glad you love it! I am looking for other forums for Fan Fiction, although I have little time to post on this one as it is! (Grin). But let me know where it is and I'll check it out!

Melosine: Just like Ailis-70, you review got me thinking, and I hacked and slashed between three renditions to get the next chapter. You made me think about where we have gone with this side-plot and where we need to go from here, so the next two chapters are really a conglomeration of what you and Ailis-70 made me think about.

I hope it works.

gwenn0: Part of this next chapter is your fault too. Women-gossip indeed! Humour is important and I am glad you found it. Here are the next two chapters for you! I really do hope it is not what you expected.

Sokorra Lewis: YAY! Do it, I can't wait to read more of your word limit segments! You should do one based on the legend of Gawain and the Green Knight! That is his biggest part of Arthurian legend. I'm sorry I didn't review. It's starred in my inbox to do it as soon as I have a few spare moments.


Chapter 61: A Helping Hurt

Wynn poked Cerys in the shoulder. Cerys looked up from her dinner plate at Wynn with a ques­tioning look, chewing slowly.

"Hmm?"

"There's your man, looks like he's been into it." She murmured into her ear, pointing.

Cerys looked up to where Wynn was pointing and saw Lancelot come into the hall, looking about. She noticed right away that he had a bruised eye, and his lip was swollen. His fists were bruised as well, and he was walking quite stiffly.

She got up. He looked like he had been tossed about but good. She felt a wave of concern, but then a bit of amusement. When he had left her by the kitchens he had been so mad he could have spit arrowheads. This must be the result of that anger. She wondered who took the other brunt of it, and if they looked worse than he did. She assumed Gawain, but with those men, one never knew.

She hoped whoever it was, that they hadn't been the loser, he looked bad enough.

"What in the name of the Gods happened to you?" She asked, her voice rising.

The rest of the women turned in their seats, eyes widening on all of them as they saw him. Lancelot reached her and he folded her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head and then resting his forehead there. He sighed heavily and squeezed her for a heartbeat. She squeezed back.

She could feel his sadness radiating off of him, but she also felt that he was... more relaxed. And he smelled good. Especially for a man who had just obviously been sweating it out with his fists raised. She rubbed his back softly and heard him sigh quietly then.

"You've had another bath."

He nodded against the top of her head, kissed it and released her. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head.

"Well? What happened?" She repeated, crossing her arms.

"Got into a fight."

"With who?" Lorina asked, stepping up beside him, reaching out to touch his eye. "That should be looked at."

He swatted at her and smiled tiredly. "It's fine woman, do you poke at Bors this way as well?"

Lorina snorted and lifted his eyebrow with her finger, and shook her head. "With the amount of black eyes that man brings home, yes. He's had many. But, that's a shiner... my word..."

The women were all now gathered around him, Lorina peering critically at his face, Wynn pick­ing up a hand to look at his bruised knuckles, Cerys still with her arms folded, watching the two women poking at him. Nimli bit into a date and tried not to laugh behind her hands, while Dory stood back further, chewing on her lip, fiddling with the sleeve of her dress.

Guinevere had gone to fetch him a cold cloth and a cup of wine, and was waddling back towards them, her amply cut dress swaying with her effort. Cerys was trying as hard as Nimli not to laugh, and they shared an amused look as the women administered their examination.

Cerys knew that normally this would be cause for flirting and jesting. But he wasn't rising to the bait. She wondered at just what happened and went back to slightly concerned from amused. Of course he would tell her at some point. She studied his face.

He was tired. And something else...

"Please, it was just a few fists." He admonished, raising his hands, trying to fend them off. Lancelot felt much too tired after what had happened to take advantage of this right now. Much to his lament. He would have to rib Bors about Lorina fondling him.

Later...

Now he wanted to sit, have a drink and have something to eat. Then he had to find Arthur.

Cerys reached out and caressed his lip lightly with her fingers.

"Just a few fists?" She asked quietly. "If it was, you wouldn't have a mark on you, and you know it."

He sighed and took the cloth and cup from Guinevere's outstretched hands. He nodded to her as he folded the cloth and put it to his lip. "Can we sit? I'm beyond hungry."

Cerys led him over to a cushion. The women all settled themselves back to their own, and they all went quiet, staring at him, waiting.

He should have just gone to find Arthur instead of trying to find her. He should have known she would be with the women. He rustled through her plate with his fingers, finding some meat and popped it into his mouth. Then he replaced the cloth on his lip. The coolness of it was soothing, and he held it there as he chewed.

"What?" he said as he looked around him, at their expectant faces.

"You cannot just walk into a room with women, all banged up, and expect us to just continue our conversations! Out with it!" Guinevere admonished, setting her cup down on the table with a thwack. It was her turn to cross her arms and look at him, resting them across her swollen bel­ly, her eyes sparkling despite her outburst.

Lancelot sighed and caught Cerys' eyes. She nodded, and twitched her lips. "Yes, please do tell us who gave you that lovely shiner."

"Gawain did." He muffled through the cloth.

The women murmured. He hadn't broken his gaze with Cerys, and she nodded once, the reali­zation dawning. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Dory's hand going to her mouth.

"Is he... " Dory asked quietly, almost whispering. Cerys turned her gaze to Dory, in case she needed to be comforted.

"He's fine Dory. He's in the baths with Galahad."

The women went silent then. All thinking much the same thing. Gawain was hurting. Cerys shifted closer to Lancelot and pulled his hand with the cloth away from his lip, taking the cloth from him.

"Did it help?" She asked, picking up one of his hands and putting the cloth across the knuckle. She looked concerned and her brow was furrowed. He watched her a moment. He had not want­ed to tell her about this until they were alone.

Lancelot ran his other hand through his hair, then down his face tiredly, wincing as he hit his eye. He picked up his cup, swirled the contents and studied it for a moment, furrowing his brow and biting his lip. Cerys leaned in at him, her eyes trying to catch him.

He looked up and caught them.

"Yes."

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

"Come."

Lancelot pushed the door open with his hand and ducked in the door. Arthur looked up from his drawings, a bit of charcoal smudged across his cheek. One hand held a drawing stick, the other held his drawing square. The edges of the lambskin were held down with rocks.

"Look at you." Arthur remarked.

Lancelot gave Arthur a withering look and then lifted the corner of his mouth. "You have char­coal on your face."

Arthur smiled, set his drawing tools down and wiped his cheeks with both hands. "Come see this."

Lancelot walked over behind Arthur and peered over his shoulder at the lambskin. He looked at the drawing. A bunch of arches and some measurements greeted him. He squinted. Cerys had been after him to learn more Latin. He really should take her up on that. He had no idea what Arthur was showing him.

Next winter, he thought. They would have time then.

"What is it?" He asked finally, after giving up guessing in his head.

"It's an aqueduct for the south pastures, man! Can't you see the arches and the trough?" Arthur said irritably pulling the lambskin towards them. Lancelot tilted his head to get a better view of it.

He put a hand on Arthur's shoulder to lean in and pointed at part of the drawing.

"What's that bit for?"

"That is to connect the edge of the stream to go down into that valley this way." Arthur replied tracing the picture with his finger, then pointing down off the map to the right.

The two men looked at it a few more moments, Lancelot asking questions, Arthur explaining parts. Lancelot sighed. This was interesting but...

Enough delay. He had other things to talk about with his friend.

"I need to speak with you about Gawain."

Arthur rolled his head on his shoulders. He gestured to the other chair at the table and Lancelot sat, folding his hands over his chest as he flung one leg over the arm. Lancelot hated chairs. Un­comfortable things, very Roman. Give him a cushion or a stool any day. He shifted a bit.

"You went to the baths?" Arthur asked, pushing a goblet at him and reaching back to where a pitcher of wine was sitting on a sideboard.

Lancelot nodded slowly, and tipped the goblet forward to allow Arthur to splash some wine into it. "Galahad is with him now, or at least was."

"Ahh."

"He talked, Arthur."

Arthur raised his eyebrows then, and set the pitcher down. "So your little demonstration in the armoury yard worked?"

Lancelot chuckled then, and ran a hand lightly over his eye. He took a sip of his wine and cleared his throat.

"I think so, at least he explained what happened." Lancelot said, then shifted again in the chair. "How do you sit on these damned things?"

"Not like that..." Arthur said absently, taking a drink from his goblet. "What did happen? Did he explain the scars or why he was so sick when we found Gareth...well... the first time?"

Lancelot nodded again and looked up at Arthur. Arthur watched the pain flash through his friend's eyes for a moment. He sat back against the chair and waited.

"It was like we thought. He was captured with Gareth, and they tortured both of them for days. Remember we thought the wounds might be burn marks?"

"Yes, we best figured that he was stabbed with heated metal, I remember Dafydd clucking about them." Arthur leaned forward then, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. "But... that's not all, surely?"

"No. True to Gareth's nature, he fought them with all he was worth. They deemed this 'honourable', if this situation could call for anything like that, and that's when they..."

Lancelot swallowed then and looked away, thinning his lips, clenching the goblet in his hands hard, his knuckles white, his jaw muscles popping. Arthur looked down as well, turning his own drink in his hands. Both men were silent for a few moments. That part for them was recent, and Lancelot did not need to explain further.

It was getting dark, and Arthur suddenly rose and grabbed a desk lantern. He stepped out the door and held it to one of the wall torches to light it, returning back to the desk and setting it with a thud in the middle.

Then, Arthur began to pace. Lancelot watched him, sipping his drink.

"They made him watch didn't they?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't he tell us?" Arthur shot out angrily, his fists clenched. He whirled towards Lance­lot. "We could have helped him years ago!"

"He couldn't remember at first, and as the memories came back, well..." Lancelot shrugged in his seat, turning his head back to look at Arthur. "I think he felt ashamed that he couldn't save him."

Arthur made an angry noise and started pacing again. As he passed, Lancelot held his goblet up for him. Without looking, Arthur took it out of his hands and took an angry sip. He spun and started back the other way.

"That's when the nightmares started." He muttered as he walked, his cup again turning in his hand.

Lancelot merely nodded. Arthur paced silently for a few moments, and Lancelot watched him. The pacing was, at this moment, rather irritating, and he wanted him to stop. What was done was done, and now they had to figure out how best to help their friend.

"Do you have a groove worn in the floor yet?" Lancelot peered down from his seat.

Arthur stopped, his back to his friend. Despite the serious conversation they were having, he twisted his lips, trying not to smile. "Not yet."

Arthur's shoulders slumped then, and he turned. "Damn... Lancelot...If only..." He trailed off, his hand coming out from his side, gesturing, then dropping listlessly.

The two men stared at each other. Lancelot grimaced again, and they shared a look. They didn't need to voice it. They were both thinking the same thing.

All these years, and finally he had broken when he couldn't shut the memories out anymore. Not with drink, not with distraction of women, not even with the Valerian Galahad had been putting in his drink for the last little while.

Lancelot wondered if it would have been the case had they not been given the chance to set on that rogue band of Saxons, and bring Gareth home for good.

"Do you think this is going to get him over the hump?" Arthur finally asked, as he sat back on his chair, and leaned heavily on the table.

Lancelot grimaced. "I don't know, but... Let's hope so."

A few more moments of quiet echoed between them. Lancelot finished his wine and set the gob­let back down on the table. Arthur fiddled with his drawing square. The table lantern flame snapped and sent sparks into the air, and both men jumped, pulling them out of their individual thoughts. Arthur ran a hand down his face.

"Did he talk about the camp attack?" Arthur asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes."

"Did I do the right thing, Lancelot?"

Lancelot looked down at his hands, then raised his head to look Arthur square in the eye.

"I don't know, old friend... but…"

Arthur finished his thought for him.

"Let's hope so."


Dear Reader:

Lancelot got a thorough examination didn't he? And a chance to let the women breathe a sigh of relief. They were gathered, as we already know, to wait. The past four days have been hard on them, just as much as the men.

All of us have doubts, and Arthur has been plagued by them every since he allowed Gawain to take that mad chieftans life. Hopefully now that Gawain has let the memory out by talking, it will be better. Sometimes silent companionship can do wonders, and I think that there have been many instances of Arthur and Lancelot doing just that. Drinking, thinking, and randomly spitting out thoughts into the quiet between them. They know each other well, and I can imagine them sitting, not even looking at each other and thinking the same thing.

That is what close friends are like, and what they can do for each other. that is why Lancelot, in a way, searched Arthur out, not so much to give him an update, but just to... sit and think with him. I hope I got that across.

On to the next chapter, which may be a new point-of-view, and one I hope you enjoy hearing from!

Cardeia