Author's Note: Just a story inspired by the first look between Lancelot and Guinevere.
Disclaimer: Buena Vista pictures and Jerry Bruckheimer own it. I'm just allowed to manipulate their characters' actions in whichever way I wish to. Enjoy.
Your Eyes
The putrid stench of decaying bodies filled the air as Lancelot and the other knights searched the tomb-like building. Lancelot felt the anger boiling up inside of him—not only because of this disgusting and horrid place, but also because of the danger of the Saxons that lay ahead of them. He swung his sword in fury, breaking a chain that attached an iron barred door to the stone wall. A man tried to stop him, but Lancelot dug his sword deep into the man's abdomen. Another, older, twitching man made it known that he disapproved. Lancelot made it known that he did not care at all.
Though utterly disgusted by his surroundings, Lancelot walked further into the prison. He gazed into each cell to see if others were alive. In one cell, a young woman about the age of twenty-five gazed sleepily back at him. The skin around her eyes was a light red, and her hands were bound in filthy bandages. Her lips were chapped from lack of water, and she looked as though she would soon faint.
Lancelot stared deep into her large, wary brown eyes. Though he felt sympathy for this girl, his expression did not soften. She seemed distant, yet bewildered. Lancelot backed away as Arthur broke the cell door's chain. Lancelot wanted to carry that girl away as much as Arthur did, but not at this time. He wanted his freedom—the freedom that he rightfully earned. As Lancelot stormed out of the foul prison, he looked back over his shoulder at the girl in Arthur's arms. She glanced back for a split-second, but her eyes closed and her head fell onto Arthur's shoulder. As enchanted as Lancelot was, he felt more concerned about reaching Hadrian's Wall.
All through the journey back to safety, those large, mysterious, enchanting brown eyes lingered in Lancelot's mind—calling him, luring him, enchanting him, taunting him. Though he made a fuss back at the prison, he could not wait to look into those gorgeous eyes again.
