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The title was hereditary – by natural means or through marriage, but the last bearer of it was deceased a long time ago, and the Ultimate Knight seemed like the obvious choice for a replacement. The greatest honour and a show of trust extended to all of the Knights of the Round Table. Sir Lancelot, the King’s Champion.
Three times the herald proclaims the challenge for anyone unwilling to accept the new king to step forward and combat his best knight. If there’s a contestant to the true King Arthur’s title, he mustn’t fight them who are not equal to him, and the trial by combat falls on Lancelot’s shoulders. Each time Lancelot throws down his gauntlet, only for a few moments of everyone baiting their breath before it is picked up and returned to him. The King watches his Champion’s every stop with an intense gaze and with great fondness shining through as his mouth is tilted in slightly exasperated amusement. By the final time the herald delivers back the gauntlet – Lancelot’s horse in front of the high table – the blue hedgehog is leaning forward with his head in his hands, ears sharply pointing in the knight’s direction, too.
An appointed noble gets down on one knee to present a silver-gilt cup full of wine to their sovereign, and Sonic takes it, motioning for them to get up already. Even as he stands up from his throne, his eyes never stray from the black hedgehog now sitting still on the horse, his head inclined with his visor down.
“Let us drink to our Champion,” he says the phrase he was made to memorise to avoid something embarrassing he would have inevitably produced on his own. “To Sir Lancelot!”
“To Sir Lancelot!” the guests enthusiastically chorus, raising their own cups, and the hedgehog takes a couple of sips. His eyelids lower as he does this, but Lancelot would bet the full set of armour he’s wearing right now that the King’s attention on him never waivers, glinting through his eyelashes. An attentive noble from earlier jumps to take the cup so they can pass it to the knight… but Sonic smirks, and this is when the Knights of the Round Table sigh internally, knowing the protocol is about to go up in flames right before the eyes of everyone attending the coronation.
In a gust of wind the blue hedgehog stands by the stirrups of the grey horse, looking up at Lancelot who has a moment to briefly wonder how the King got across the table so fast. Has he jumped or run over it, has he sneaked below the same way he himself as a kid used to do many years ago?
“Your majesty!” gasps the person who was supposed to deliver the cup, but Sonic only flaps his hand at them.
“Get down here, Lance,” he says nonchalantly, now holding the cup in both hands.
“My Lord, by tradition I am not to dismount until I depart from the hall,” the King’s Champion tries, but the other only grins brighter and holds out the cup. Oh, what can you do. Sir Lancelot sighs and leans back a little, gently pulling on his reins and prompting the horse to go backwards a step, before he frees his feet out of the stirrups, and a dozen seconds later he’s standing on solid ground, visor up, the horse being led away by the herald. His King is wearing the lighter, stripped of most of its protection, version of his Excalibur armour, his sword attached to his belt and at this proximity Caliburn’s grumbling can be heard clearly. He seems as unhappy about the “improvisations” as the Knights.
However, Lancelot is slowly starting to rethink whether he really is that discontent with the outcome when the cup gilded with gold is passed to him straight from his sovereign’s hands, their fingers touching as it’s held between them an extra moment or two. He can’t really feel anything through the gauntlets, but there’s still something so intimate about this gesture.
No more intimate than drinking from the same vessel as the other, the Ultimate Knight suddenly realises with his mouth dry, bringing the cup to his lips carefully. Touching where his King’s lips touched, drinking the same wine he drank, holding eye contact until the last drop is gone.
“Well, here’s your prize, my valiant Champion,” Sonic almost whispers like he’s short of breath, and Lancelot knows both of them are acutely aware that he gained more than a golden cup today.