MaverickKayPrime: I know what you're thinking; why didn't she describe Lenora? She's, like, a big part of the story. Well, the reason I didn't really let the reader get to know Lenora is because she's important but, she not at the same time. It's kind of hard to explain without giving parts away. I might give a description of her but that would be, like, very far into the story.

Musicalocelot: I believe I already answered your view. :)

All spelling and grammatical errors are my fault.

Disclaimer: Lancelot and anyone related belong to SEGA. Elizabeth and Lenora belong to me. No translations for this chapter.

Chapter 4: Forced Steps

Mornings were quite…well, quiet. Now they were, actually. Ever since a couple weeks ago the new father could actually sleep through the night, peacefully. Yeah, Elizabeth would cry when she awoke but, it wasn't at the crack of dawn anymore. So, it was a great improvement in Lancelot's eyes.

Speaking of the midnight father and daughter they were both in the family room doing their own business. Lancelot read the daily news and Elizabeth was playing with wooden blocks. She sat on her bottom stacking them as high as she could from her sitting position. Lancelot put down the paper and observed her. He gently smiled and continued reading.

Elizabeth held the last block that needed to be stacked. She reached up to put the block on top but it was too high for her. She still sat on the floor and tried again but this time, she accidentally knocked over the small tower. The blocks toppled over, one hitting her head. The purple tipped hedgie looked at the block in her hand and scowled at it. She growled before throwing it as hard as her chubby arm could throw it. The, caramel brown, block flew to an unsuspecting hedgehog and hit him straight on the head.

Lancelot blinked, confused about what had just happened before turning his head to his daughter, whom crossed her arms and glared at the block beside him. He picked up the block and saw that her eyes followed the toy. He observed that her eyes shined a bright red, not as deep as his own but, still. Lancelot frowned, lightly, at her and scolded, "Elizabeth, what have I told you about throwing objects?" He rubbed the sore spot on his head and put the paper beside him down. Elizabeth only glared before reaching out towards the block in his hand.

"Daddy, can I have block?" she asked ignoring the scolding.

The crimson striped male looked at her and then set the block in front of his feet. "Elizabeth, if you want something, you have to come get it." He needed to confirm something; something that had been bugging him for quite awhile. Lancelot waited for her to do something but, all he got were loud whines.

"Give block to me," Elizabeth shouted, already frustrated.

Lancelot raised his brow. "Elizabeth," he warned.

The toddler shook her head and hands. She took another block and threw it towards him. She screamed loudly and yelled at the top of her tiny lungs, "Give me block! I WANT BLOCK!" She continued screaming and throwing a tantrum until a loud voice boomed, "Enough!"

Elizabeth stopped immediately, turning to look at her father. Lancelot stood with hands on his hips and a deep frown. He crossed his arms and walked towards her. He sat down in front of her and said, "I will not tolerate that kind of behavior. If you want something, you do not throw things and throw a tantrum. You ask nicely and you go and get it. Do you understand me?" Elizabeth brought her tiny fists to her eyes and started to sniffle, her way of letting someone know she was about to cry. She curled up into a ball and felt herself being lifted into her father's lap. Lancelot stroked her head and sighed heavily.

It was always hard disciplining her. She was so small and fragile. Whenever he scolded her he always thought his voice would break her. But it had to be done. And the only reason why he wanted her to come and get the block was because she hadn't taken her first steps yet. At first, he really hadn't paid attention to it but when Vanilla said children were to start walking and talking at 24 months he panicked a bit. She didn't say her first word until shortly after turning three. And she, still, couldn't walk.

After a few days of thinking on the troubling thought he always found a way to lightly suggest the idea, like he did not too long ago, hoping to spark any reflex. But, of course it didn't.

What if it was his fault? It had to be. She couldn't walk and she was three years old. Why? Was she a late bloomer? Would it affect her later in life? Oh, he couldn't bear to think of the idea of when she grew older. An image of a taller and more developed Elizabeth walking with a cane popped in his brain. Lancelot shruddered and looked down at his daughter, who was now calm. Endless doubts of his position as a father ran into his mind once again.

It would be all his fault. In this age, the crippled were taunted tremendously by the young adults, to his despair. He would cause his own daughter pain and misery when he could've prevented it. Perhaps he wasn't feeding her something? No, it couldn't be. He'd gotten all his supplies from Vanilla and she sure knew what she was doing. Maybe-maybe he it was some type of birth defect? Maybe something happened to Elizabeth when she was born. Lenora did die after having her.

The thought of his wife dampened his mood, tremendously. This whole day had dampened his mood! A rising feeling, he couldn't describe, started to rise in his chest. Lancelot shook his head, vigorously, feeling the something sting the corner of his eyes. No! He couldn't cry. He'd done enough of that. He was a Knight of the Round Table for crying out loud. He wasn't in that position because he cried so there would be absolutely no tears. Perhaps that's why she was falling behind. He'd gotten soft! He needed to start working on the situation at hand, correctly, if the problem was ever going to get better. With that thought set in his mind Lancelot sniffled lightly and set Elizabeth in front of him.

The young child blinked at her father confused. His brows were scrunched up in determination and his lips were pursed in a fine line. "Dada?" she questioned.

"Elizabeth," his firm voice surprised her. She hummed in acknowledgment. Lancelot picked her up to her feet. "You are going to learn how to walk," he said forcefully. Elizabeth only stared, bewildered, at Lancelot. She was about to ask what he was doing before she was abruptly placed on her feet. The heavy weight on her chubby legs was uncomfortable. She voiced a protest but it fell on deaf ears.

Lancelot, no matter how hard it was, ignored her uncomfortable whine. She needed to do this. He needed her to do this. He couldn't bear the thought of his little girl having issues walking. No father would. So, he needed to push her. Maybe that would get her muscles going. He was doing the right thing even if she kept whining she didn't want to do this. He was doing his job as a father.

Right?

She didn't like this, She didn't like this one bit. "Daddy, we can stop now. We can stop now." Lancelot shook his head while he kept her up. "Elizabeth, I'm going to let go and you're going to try to have to balance yourself."

"Dada?"

"I'm letting go now."

Right when his large hands were not even a centimeter away she toppled back and fell with a dull thud. Before anything could register in Elizabeth's mind Lancelot picked her up again and made her balance by herself. Again, she fell over but, she was only set on her feet.

For an hour a day, Elizabeth endured, what she thought was torture. After the third day she stopped trying to talk her way out of the training, telling him it was hurting her legs. It was useless. He wouldn't listen to her.

Lancelot, determined to have her stand on her own, tried his very best to ignore the desperate looks his daughter gave him. He had to keep reminding himself that he was only putting her through this for her own good when he saw tears well up in her eyes every time she fell. He was proud that she kept in the tears. He was very proud but, he couldn't tell her that. She needed to learn that you needed to reach your destination before someone was given praise.

It was just the way things were done.

(O…O)

By the end of the third week Elizabeth had learned to not only stand by herself but, walk many steps before she fell. When she had taken her first step, alone, she looked up to her father, expecting him to praise her with some type of affection but to her disappointment, she got none. Well, little to none. Lancelot only nodded and congratulated her. He didn't hug her, he didn't kiss her forehead.

Nothing.

She was disappointed and confused greatly but, she didn't show it. Elizabeth, wanting to make her father proud, just smiled and continued on her way. But for some reason, from that day on, she never felt the same. Now, she would always feel the same way she felt about her father. She loved him very much and she knew from every kiss he gave her every night that he still loved her. But, she still, never felt the same way. She just couldn't describe it.

But it didn't matter.

(O…O)

Elizabeth stared in awe as she watched countless swords cling and clash making the exact same sounds the tall glass thingies, her father drank out of, when he and a blue hedgehog, she didn't know, put their glasses together. The exasperated three year old gasped when a sword was, suddenly, at the right side of someone's neck. She expected it to cut the knight but she hummed in confusion when the two knights laughed heartedly and shook hands.

From what her father had told her, there was only one winner. No exceptions. That was the only way to end battle.

At least, that's what she got from his stories.

Elizabeth was abruptly pushed out of her trance when two men were suddenly yelling at each other. They got into each other's faces and screamed words that she couldn't recognize but, by her father's hands covering her ears, she could tell they weren't very good ones.

When Lancelot uncovered her ears he immediately took Elizabeth into his arms and unconsciously tightened his grip. "You'll get a break from walking for right now," he said expressionless, "But when we get to our destination you will go back to it, okay?" He looked, stoic, at his daughter who only nodded. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head in the crook of his neck. Elizabeth ignored the clings that made her ears perk up every second.

This was the first time in three weeks he, willingly, picked her up. She wasn't going to miss up on the chance to snuggle with her father. Why had he changed so suddenly? Did she do something wrong? Was it because she threw that block? Maybe, that was when this started. She would never throw anything again.

Maybe bringing a three year old child to the training camp was a bad idea on his part. But, King Arthur did say he was welcomed to get back in process and Lancelot had decided to start as soon as his daughter could walk. Of course, he hadn't realized that she would be alone if she didn't come along. So, Lancelot took her with him. He couldn't resist the training field any longer. He missed the sweet tangy smell of dirt, grime and sweat. He missed the metal clings the swords made when they came in contact. And he missed his armor too, especially his helmet. He terribly missed it. Maybe it was because it protected his face from other's when emotion seemed to show. He was never one to like his feelings to surface. It just wasn't….knightly? But there was one thing he didn't miss.

And that was the sore losers.

Why couldn't people accept they lost? There was no need to curse or start a fight. Nobody died so, what was the big deal? Yeah, it could hurt your reputation but you shouldn't have lost anyway. So suck it up. There were children here for crying out loud. His daughter was right there! Were they not liable to see?

Lancelot rolled his eyes in disgust as he walked away from the two fighting. "Fools," he mumbled. He carried Elizabeth and walked to a familiar base. He set his daughter down and held her hand. Elizabeth looked about the field wondering what they were doing here. She's never been here before.

"D-daddy? What we doing here?"

Lancelot grimaced on her grammar. He needed to work on that.

"It's 'What are we doing here' and we're here because I'm going to show you what I did before you were born."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and Lancelot smirked as her eyes turned light lavender. "Really!? Me get to see you-"

"I."

She stopped her sentence after that. She decided not to continue. She would only be corrected more. Lancelot raised a brow at the young one. Wasn't she going to finish? He was about to ask when a deep gruffly voice shouted, "So the rumors are true. Ya' still are alive Lancelot."

Said knight turned to the origin of the voice with the biggest smirk, which had to be a smile, he's had all day. Who'd ever thought Sir Gawain's voice would sound so good. "I believe I still am Gawain." The crimson echidna stopped in front of the midnight clan and leaned on his sword. He observed the hedgehog before smiling and shaking Lancelot's hand. They went in for a hug greeting each other like old friends.

"So, where's the kid that's been keeping you busy for three years?" Gawain asked putting a firm emphasis on three.

Lancelot chuckled and looked around. He found Elizabeth behind his leg, holding onto it. She peeked out to see the big red echidna who cocked his head at her. She immediately retracted her head and tried to hide behind the thin limb. The dark hedgehog chuckled at the sight and moved away from the child. Elizabeth stared, frightfully at her father who only nodded his head towards Gawain.

"Well, go on. Be polite," he commanded softly.

Elizabeth nodded and fiddled with her fingers. She waddled towards the red echidna and fell forward a few times. Gawain was going to take a few steps closer to make it easier for her to walk towards him but stopped when Lancelot commanded, "Don't. She can walk over there by herself." Gawain only shrugged but, stood still.

Finally, Elizabeth got herself to the echidna. Gawain knelt down and held a hand out. The child wasted no time grabbing onto his hand and falling forward, tired form the walking. Not really knowing what to do at this point he looked over to his friend to see him eye Elizabeth. Lancelot's daughter took in a deep breath, supplying her lungs before standing up straight. A bright red blush was apparent on her cheeks form exhaustion and embarrassment.

"H-hello Mr. My name Eliz-"

"My name is…" Lancelot corrected.

She nodded quickly and started again but, she had trouble pronouncing her name. "My name is Ilisa-lizabi-Eliza-"

"Her name is Elizabeth Ann du Lac but she'll go by Elizabeth or any other name. As long as I find it acceptable," Lancelot said gruffly a bit annoyed that she couldn't say her name. Elizabeth bowed her head in shame but timidly smiled at the ground, to still show respect to the stranger.

She'd done it again. She's disappointed her father.

Gawain looked between the grumbling father and the shameful daughter. He wasn't exactly, what you call parent material, but he didn't sense very good vibes. "Hello," he started, "My name's Gawain. I'm one of the Knights of the Round Table like your dad."

He lifted up his helmet and smiled when Elizabeth's eyes shined at the word knight.

"Really!? That's cool," she exclaimed. "Do you fight with swords?"

Gawain chuckled, "Well of course I do, kid. But that isn't the only thing I fight with." He placed his fist in front of her showing her the pointy ends. "I also fight with these."

"I touch them?"

"Well sure you can."

Elizabeth awed as she felt the pointy things on his knuckles. They had a soft texture to them yet they were rock hard. "It hurt when I do this?" she pinched it and looked at him for a reaction.

Nothing.

Gawain shook his and said, "It's going to take a lot more than that to hurt a large fellow like me." Elizabeth only nodded, her mouth agape. She suddenly leaped onto him causing the crimson echidna to almost fall back.

"You are uncle daddy was talking 'bout!" she shouted, laughing.

Gawain looked desperately at Lancelot who only smirked. "U-uncle!?" he exclaimed.

Lancelot said, "Oh yeah. Welcome to the family Uncle Gawain."

Well, you can obviously see something's changed between Lancelot and Elizabeth. Yeah, no more Guy...or daddy. I had to get Lancelot back into character because I don't want him straying from his usual demeanor. I did this for a reason also. It's called foreshadowing people. Anyway, he will be a little softer because, ya'know, he's a dad. And daddy's always love their little girls. So, yeah. Tell me what you think. Feedback, feedback and more feedback!

Thank You. R&R

~God Bless You~