Honor thy daughter
Disclaimer: Well I don't own any of the knights or anything belonging to the movie 'King Arthur' or the legend. Unfortunately I don't own Lancelot however much I might in my own reality.
A/N: You now get to read my King Arthur fic I started for friend purposes. Actually I was inspired by a King Arthur fic that's being written by someone here at the moment. The fic is set after the final battle - but, none of the knights died, why? Because I said so. So, without further ado, welcome to my fic. This is the prologue – which gives you a sort of introduction to my fic. It's short yes, but I'll post the first chapter a bit later on today.
Please read and review. Tis a nice thing to do xD
Bors, Gawain and Galahad waltzed arm-in-arm down the street. Quite drunk, singing in raucous voices the infamous song that Vanora – Bors' lover and should-be wife – sung the night that Arthur told the knights about the last mission they would have to do if they wanted their freedom from Rome's service.
Lancelot looked up from where he was polishing his twin swords on a stairway nearby. Grinning he shook his head as he tried to figure out why he wasn't equally as drunk as his fellow knights.
"Lancy!" Galahad yelled, noticing their dark-headed brother-in-arms. "Join us! Back at the tavern there are enough maids to satisfy even you for a night or even two!"
Laughing Lancelot shook his head. "Not tonight Galahad."
"But…whatever is the matter Lancelot? Come, brother! You must drink!" Gawain protested, loosening his hold on Bors' head and stumbled over to Lancelot.
Between Bors, Galahad and Gawain they managed to heave a slightly unwilling Lancelot onto his feet, relieved him of having to carry his twin swords by sheathing them on his back, and pulled him in the direction of the tavern. As they entered, several barmaids looked up and sent winks and looks towards Lancelot who shifted on his feet uneasily.
Unfortunately for that knight, Bors noticed.
"Aha!" He grinned. "Is this perhaps the reason why our fellow brother did not wish to visit this lowly place? Did he perhaps, wish to avoid a few of the maids around?"
"Quite the opposite in fact Bors. I merely wished to have some peace and quite for a change. I know, that isn't at all like me is it? I just felt the need to have some quite time. I wanted to think. But now that I'm here I may as well have some ale. Vanora, if you please!" Lancelot flopped down next to Galahad on a bench.
"My friends! Join us!" Bors raised his cup in the direction of the opening of the tavern. Dagonet and Tristan walked over to the table and sat down next to their friends.
"Bors, have you heard?" Dagonet elbowed Bors in the ribs to get his attention.
"Heard? Heard what?" Bors stared at Dagonet, swaying ever so slightly.
"There's a village north-west from here….Saxons have attacked it. Arthur wants to travel there," Dagonet replied, munching on an apple.
Tristan cut a piece off his own apple and stuck it in his mouth. "If you ask me, Arthur believes that there is a survivor or two. You should've seen his face when he heard from the messenger."
"Crazy, that's what it is," Lancelot said. "Saxons take what they want, and kill what they take. Why is Arthur risking our lives to travel to a destroyed village…and so soon after the attack – the messenger couldn't have left yet."
"You know as much as we do Lance," Dagonet said "If you wonder so much, ask Arthur yourself."