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"Would you just hold still?" Elyan asked, half exasperated and half fond. It would be a lot less amusing though if Lancelot kept fidgeting all night long. The tent the two men shared was small enough that some part of their bodies was always touching, so the other knight couldn't just ignore it like he did Gwaine's sleepwalking.
"Sorry, I'm just-" Lancelot replied, breaking off with a huffed breath before he actually explained anything. "Restless," he decided on the word.
"Worried about being away from Merlin?" Elyan teased, but it was good natured.
"No. I know he can look after himself." He knew better than most people exactly how much the warlock didn't need his protection.
"Worried for yourself?" Elyan amended.
"No. Well, not that worried." Their mission to escort a princess home from her visit was set to be relatively simple and safe, and even if things went wrong, as they tended to do in Camelot, he was confident about his and Elyan's ability to handle it.
"What is it then?" The knight asked. Lancelot shifted uncomfortably.
"It's alright, really."
"Oh no," Elyan said, immediately sitting up. "That's what you always say when you're hurt but don't want to be a bother. What is it?"
"I'm not injured," Lancelot reassured him. Elyan fixed him with a disbelieving stare. "Not recently, at least."
"What does that mean? Are you in pain or not?" Now that he was looking for it, he could see the crease between his friend's eyebrows and could recognize his constant shifting as an impossible attempt to get comfortable despite something being wrong.
"It's not bad. It's just… my shoulder hurts sometimes since I was injured in taking the castle back from Morgana. Merlin usually gives me something for the pain, and, well, his mattress is a lot softer than this bedroll."
"Oh," Elyan said softly. "Is there anything I can do?"
"You don't have to, really, I'll be okay, and try to stop moving so much-"
"Lancelot. I want to help. And that wasn't a no." He knew that his friend hated to be a burden on anyone, and would turn down offered help even when he really needed it. One had to press a little to get him to accept it.
Lancelot winced at being called out. "Sometimes a massage of it will help," he admitted. Elyan nodded.
"Okay, turn over onto your stomach then." He carefully nudged his hip in encouragement until Lancelot lay down in a good position. "It's your right shoulder, right?" He asked as he put his hands on it and began to knead it gently. Lancelot stiffened under his hands, but soon began to relax and Elyan knew he had made the right call in pressing him to say what was wrong. He used the same techniques for loosening up his muscles that Gwen used on him when he was sore from working in the forge. The scar on Lancelot's back was raised enough that he could feel it through his shirt, stretching from his shoulder down towards the middle of his back for a full hands-width. He avoided pressing on it directly, but paid special attention to the knotted muscle around it. Lance grunted in apparent pain and he immediately stopped.
"Is this making it better or worse?" He asked. "And please be honest."
"It always hurts more for a while, until I can relax," the knight admitted. "But it is helping. Thank you."
"It's no problem. If it helps you sleep, I'm happy to do it."
"In that case, um, can you… no, sorry, I shouldn't have asked-"
"What is it?" Elyan asked gently. "I won't judge you for it."
"Um, could we snuggle?"
"That's it?" The blacksmith laughed gently. "I thought you were going to ask for something else."
"It's not- we don't have to-"
"No, of course we can." He laid back down beside Lancelot and snuggled close to him. Mindful of his shoulder and taking care not to accidentally put it in an awkward position, he slipped his hand under the arm before wrapping it around his waist. The other knight shifted slightly before sighing and falling still. "I take that to mean this is alright?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Okay, now do you think you can get to sleep?" He teased gently. With the way their faces lay close together, he could feel the heat of the blush that rose on Lancelot's cheeks. He rubbed his back comfortingly. "It's okay if you can't. I've still got you."
Unable to properly voice his appreciation for all of this, Lancelot just squeezed his companion's arm with his left hand and leaned forward to bump his forehead gently against his own. Thankfully, Elyan had owned a cat when he was younger, and recognized the gesture as one of affection.