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As he entered the tent, he felt a sense of unusual comfort.
The calm air inside, the solitude and silence of the camp in the dark night.
Nimue gestured him to sit down on the bed. She left for a minute and returned with a cloth and bucket of water.
Nimue sat down next to him, clearly hesitant to help the monster beside her. She hated him, rightfully so.
"Can you take your shirt off?" Nimue said, breaking the quiet and peaceful atmosphere.
He nodded.
Lancelot hadn't said anything since him and squirrel had arrived.
He winced as he slowly took off his shirt. Lancelot then turned towards her, as though he was hiding something behind him.
Nimue was puzzled by this but she began to clean the wounds on his chest.
After what felt to both of them like hours she finally said,
"...thank you, for saving squirrel."
Lancelot was unsure how to respond to that. "Why did you? Save him?" Nimue asked, curious why this murderer would kill his people to save a random child.
"He was just a child, he didn't deserve to be tortured or killed." He replied in his low voice almost rasping from the pain.
"Since when you care about what people deserve or don't deserve!" She snapped.
"My mother, my family, my people. They didn't deserve to die either." She said softly, fighting away tears.....
"I'm sorry." He practically whispered.
Nimue's eyes widened suddenly unsure if she heard it right.
Unable to speak more, she stopped the conversation and continued to clean his scars.
Finally she said "turn around.”
Lancelot paused.....
"No." He said firmly.
"Why not?" She asked, confused at his hesitation.
"Just....no." He replied softer than before.
"I have to look at your wounds, some of them could be infected."
She sat up straight and turned his shoulder slowly so he was facing away from her. Nimue gasped.
"Where....where are these from? When?" She mumbled, still in shock and horror from the sight of his back, marked with countless bright red thrashes.
"Punishment." He replied calmly, but he was in pain and nimue could sense it wasn't just from his scars.
She slowly treated the long, bloody scars being more careful than before not to hurt him.
She turned him around.
Lancelot was crying, subtly, but Nimue could see it clearly.
Their eyes met.
"What happened to you? How did you become....this?" She hesitantly asked.
Lancelot froze, scared to bring back the memories.
"They came to my home, for my people....the ash folk.." Nimue was shocked, but tried to hide her reaction, so many thoughts going though her head.
"Father Carden saw that I could sense my own, so he took me, trained me to be what I am today." He let out a sigh, almost like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
Their eyes met once again, but this time they didn't look away. "I'm sorry about your family. Uh...?"
She paused and glanced to the floor. "Lancelot." He said, though he had told Percival hours earlier, the word still felt strange to him.
"Lancelot." Nimue said, it felt strange to her too, to imagine the monster she had once feared so much to have been a person ... a fey even.
"I am sorry...about your family too Nimue." Lancelot said.
This took Nimue by surprise, not just hearing him apologise...but saying her name.
They stared at each other, gazing right into each other's eyes.
Suddenly, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was gentle but unexpected, to both of them. He leaned forward but abruptly he pulled back, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Why did...why would you? I killed your people. I'm a monster." He spoke softly.
There was silence. Then, Nimue put a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. "You're not a monster..Lancelot."
They look at each other.
"you should get some rest." Nimue said faintly.
He nodded, still looking in her eyes.
As she walked out of the tent, Lancelot smiled, he hadn't smiled in a while, he hadn't felt happiness in a while.
But he did now, because of her, because he felt a sense that he could belong here.
With that thought in mind, he leant back onto the bed and drifted off to sleep....