AN : Set during the movie, some time after the quarrel between Arthur and Lancelot (the night before they leave for their last mission). The title is a reference to Lancelot's yell 'Not my god!' after he kills the crazy monk. As usual, thanks to those who read or review!
Not my God
Sometimes, Lancelot did not understand Arthur.
Oh, he knew him better than most; even better than most knights. And he understood a lot. In a way, he understood Arthur's choice to deny his Woad ancestry, the savages had after all killed his own mother when he was but a child.
But he could not understand why Arthur spent so much time praying to the Christians' God.
Oh, a long time ago, he had tried to understand. He had listened to Angharad who had loved so much to speak about her dear God, and he had listened to Arthur, the few times his friend had tried to explain.
Angharad, his gentle, naive angel. She had been a sweet but weak girl. He could still remember her youthful pallid face, her soft eyes – so old! – and her hushed voice filled with wonderment and hope when she had spoken about her God. How she had loved Him, and how her face had been smiling when she had explained that her God was everybody's God, that He was loving and protecting and forgiving.
So loving and protecting and forgiving that He had let Angharad suffer for years until she had passed away, like a bright candle blown out by a gust of wind. The wind of illness.
How Lancelot had yelled at that God! A God who abandoned even those who loved Him above all else and who deserved nothing more than love and light.
Angharad's God was Arthur's God also. And Arthur had loved Angharad too. But still, Arthur had never stopped praying and confiding in that cruel God!
Well, he wasn't Lancelot's God.
Sometimes, Lancelot did not understand Arthur.
AN bis : I hope I succeeded in describing Lancelot's bitterness (it is not how I feel about religion).