would remember Lancelot.
The way his nails dug into his skin,
leaving small, crescent-shaped bruises. The way his mouth curled up
into smirk when his name spilled from Galahad's lips.
was a partner in arms. A warrior...a brother..." The knights
gathered around as ashes were cast into the wind, and Arthur spoke
the words; eyes done their crying. There were others there, too, but
they didn't matter.
Galahad swallowed over the lump in his
throat, and could have sworn he heard Lancelot snickering in his ear;
trying to lighten up the moment. Laughing at the injustice of it
The crowds parted, and thinned, but Arthur stayed at the
site. Galahad watched him.
"You know, we should really leave
him be for a moment. Lancelot's death hit him hard." Bors was
muttering in Galahad's ear, tugging gently on his arm. Pulling him
Lancelot's death hit him hard? Lancelot's death hit
Arthur hard? The lump in Galahad's throat grew larger, but
he could say nothing. As always, he could say nothing.
like laughing out loud. Arthur had the right to mourn his Lancelot,
more than Galahad did?
Lancelot had always wanted it a secret;
midnight meetings, fleeting glances and forbidden touches. Galahad
had taken what he could get.
"Galahad? We're all upset,
but Arthur..." Bors trailed off, casting his eyes to the man
kneeling at the ground, "he needs time. And we should give him
As he walked by, Gawain looked in the direction of
Galahad and Bors, hearing the man's words. His eyes darkened, like
he knew something, but he said nothing.
Only Tristan had
known, because there wasn't anything that could be kept from
Tristan. And now Tristan was gone. Tristan, and...
welled in Galahad's eyes, and he could almost hear Lancelot hissing
in his ear, telling him to stop it. Telling him to be a man. Could
almost feel Lancelot's fingers wrapped around his wrist. Firmly
"Bors, leave Galahad. If he wants to..."
It was Gawain speaking now, addressing Bors, stepping between him and
"Gawain, Arthur needs to..."
what Arthur needs! We all need..."
Galahad put his
hand on Gawain's shoulder. He sighed, pushing his tears
"Leave it be. I'm going." Galahad turned and
walked away, down the dusty footpath to the bottom of the
Galahad would remember Lancelot.
remember the sweet, silent kisses and the way Lancelot would whisper
sweet things when he thought no one else could hear.
one would know he had the right to.