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Chapter Text

No Attraction or Intimacy

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Intimacy: “close familiarity or friendship; a cozy and private or relaxed atmosphere.”

***

When Lancelot first got the idea to be a knight, it was a passing thought. A ‘silly’ one, as Maria would call it, considering how they were plain citizens who had no correlations to anyone who was a knight.

He remembered in the past when he was around 10 years old, he had bumped into someone wearing a cloak. Someone infuriating wearing a cloak.

The black hedgehog was simply minding his own business, helping around with the professor’s - his caretaker and Maria’s grandfather - bookstore by moving the newly transported boxes of books from the front of the store to the bookshelves. Due to Maria’s inconsistent and oftentimes deteriorating health, Shadow had always tried his best to lift some of the professor’s burdens off his shoulders. The old man already had his hands full with trying to concoct a cure for Maria, so Shadow would gladly help in any way he could.

While moving those boxes, the mentioned infuriating person had barged into the bookstore, and Lancelot was barely able to stop himself from rudely shooing the potential customer away. After all, he was pretty sure he had left the ‘closed’ sign of the bookstore unflipped, so if the customer could read, he should have understood that the store was still closed.

Judging from how the guy seemed to be in a rush, though, Lancelot was willing to bet that he didn’t even bother to read the sign. He had rushed into the store as if he belonged there and as if it was his own place.

Grabbing a hold of the last box of books effortlessly, Lancelot turned to the guy who was hiding behind a bookshelf tall and big enough to hide behind, the black hedgehog unable to stop himself from frowning in disdain despite trying his best not to. (In Lancelot’s defense, he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed; literally. He fell off the bed and Maria laughed at him so hard she started coughing. At least it made the girl smile.)

“We’re close. You can’t read or something?” Lancelot ended up saying in a deadpan anyway, raising an eye ridge when the guy blinked a couple of times in the black hedgehog’s directions as if he couldn’t believe that someone had the gall to speak to him in such a tone.

The unwanted customer must have been someone of high standing. Then why was it that he dressed himself in a cloak?

Fortunately, before Lancelot could fully lose his patience, the guy snapped out of whatever trance he was in, and adjusted the hood over his head so that the black hedgehog could get a view of the lower half of his face.

If the stranger had noticed the surprise written on Lancelot’s face from realizing that the said stranger was also a hedgehog like himself, he didn’t bother to address it.

“Well, aren’t you a delight?” the stranger said, thinly veiled sarcasm lacing his voice, yet could be heard all too clearly anyway by the black hedgehog due to the terrible and forced politeness in those words.

The stranger’s figure had made Lancelot assume that the said hedgehog would be as old if not older than him, but there was a maturity in the said stranger’s voice that made the black hedgehog wonder if the stranger was just another kid around his age. (There’s an odd authoritative tone in the stranger’s voice, too - as if he was accustomed to giving orders.)

Before Lancelot could give his own reply, however, the sound of footsteps belonging to - who Lancelot assumed were - royal guards could be heard approaching, and the stranger seemed to grow increasingly jittery as he quickly dropped his high and mighty attitude.

“Care to help another hedgehog in need?” the stranger quickly asked, not waiting for a moment longer for Lancelot’s response before he was suddenly gone, hiding himself in the shadows cast by the tall bookshelves in the book store.

Lancelot wasn’t really given much time to ponder over whether he should help the increasingly suspicious stranger or not when a royal guard suddenly entered the bookstore, pointedly looking around before his gaze landed on Lancelot.

“...have you seen anyone… suspicious around?” the guard asked.

‘Not sure about suspicious, but there is an unwanted customer who can’t read in a bookstore’, was what Lancelot wanted to say.

Instead, Lancelot carefully considered his options.

The stranger clearly was someone who came from a family of a higher status, yet he didn’t look all too ‘wealthy’ judging from the cloak he wore and the glimpse of dirtied blue quills and peach fur that he could see peeking out of the cloak.

Perhaps the stranger was someone whose family discarded him for some reason, and the guards were after him because he had been stealing for scraps to survive on his own without a roof over his head.

It was a plausible possibility. One that was becoming more and more convincing in the black hedgehog’s head.

There was also the possibility that the stranger could be a wanted criminal that Lancelot didn’t remember seeing posters of, but his gut feeling was somehow leaning into the possibility of the previous assumption he had made.

Hence, in the end, Lancelot decided to go along with his first assumption.

“No one came to mind, sir,” Lancelot answered the royal guard’s question, making sure he looked calm and not as if he was hiding a fugitive behind the bookshelves of his caretaker’s bookstores.

For a few nerve-wracking moments, the royal guard appraised the black hedgehog, but eventually thanked Lancelot for his cooperation before leaving the bookstore uneventfully.

Only when the sound of footsteps grew distant did the stranger make his presence known once again, stepping out of his hiding place with an all too thankful and wide smile on his lips as Lancelot’s gaze met with emerald green eyes for a brief moment.

“Thank you for the save, sour citizen.” the stranger thanked Lancelot, approaching the black hedgehog and suddenly making him second-guess whether he made the right choice to hide the stranger from the guards.

Who would be peculiar enough to call another person a ‘citizen’ unprompted?

“That is a horrifyingly terrible way to address someone who had saved you from being kept in prison for stealing, but you’re welcome.” Lancelot gruffed, finally placing the box he was holding on the counter and starting to unpack its content.

If the stranger was offended by Lancelot’s comment, he didn’t bother to voice it out loud.

For a few moments of slightly awkward stretched silence, the stranger kept staring at him, and Lancelot hit his limit of patience when he noticed the way the stranger gawked at him for being able to carry a stack of books.

Sure, they were heavy and many, but Lancelot was used to doing such a thing on the daily. (Additionally, openly gawking at someone was not necessarily an exemplary manner.)

“Do you have nothing to get to?” Lancelot deadpanned, looking right into those emerald green eyes while the stranger grew startled at the sudden words directed at him.

Once again, blinking a few times as if he was slowly comprehending Lancelot’s words, the stranger had the decency to look embarrassed, and cleared his throat as he smiled sheepishly, propping his arm on the counter and leaning his weight against it.

“Uh… what exactly do you mean by that?” the stranger asked, tone as sheepish as the smile directed at the black hedgehog.

Deciding to pay attention to the stranger for the purpose of having the said stranger leave quicker, Lancelot dumped the books back on the counter, and took a step closer to the stranger if only to intimidate the other and as a silent demand for the stranger to take his words seriously.

“What I mean is that the bookstore is closed, and we do not house those who are being hunted by the royal guards for a prolonged period. Leave.”

Instead of the desired ‘immediately leaving’ effect, the stranger seemed almost… intrigued by Lancelot’s no-nonsense attitude.

The stranger was driving Lancelot’s head mad.

“You have compassion. You’re capable of strength - even more if you get proper training. A sword would fit right into your hands if you just diligently train. I know you’re diligent judging from how you’re always helping Mr. Robotnik with the bookstore.

I do not doubt that your loyalty is also to not be underestimated judging from how kindly you treat Maria. Perhaps my hunch is always right after all.” the stranger started sputtering nonsense, causing Lancelot’s quills to bristle before he instinctively made a swipe for the stranger - except the stranger, almost gracefully, dodged.

One moment he was by the counter, and the next the stranger was already standing by the door, his hood falling off by the abrupt movements and revealing the stranger’s face.

Lancelot had never seen quills that looked as blue as the stranger’s.

“In a couple of years, I am planning to form- join something. Knights of the Round Table.

You should give that a try, Lance.” the stranger said, an almost dazzling smile on his lips directed at the stunned black hedgehog.

Before the blue hedgehog could flee, however, Lancelot snapped out of the trance he momentarily had found himself in.

“And why should I believe a word you say?” Lancelot questioned, tone daring and challenging.

Once again, the blue hedgehog merely looked intrigued.

“Because, Lance, being a knight would mean you can properly and lawfully land an attack on me without being accused of treason. After all, it appears to me that you have been refraining from punching me at numerous points in time for such a short duration of our meeting.

A tempting offer, is it not?” the stranger almost drawled, a mischievous yet taunting smile on his lips - as if he knew something that Lancelot didn’t.

‘Treason’? Who does this guy think he is?

“I have other priorities to attend to rather than learning swordsmanship and knight-related skills. You can join your ‘knight army’ or whatnot by yourself.” Lancelot responded, pointedly narrowing his eyes at the blue hedgehog whose smile widened the slightest bit more at the rejection.

What an odd fellow.

“Our paths will cross once again, I am sure. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Right after saying those words, in the blink of an eye, there was no one standing by the door of the bookstore anymore.

The encounter with the blue hedgehog remained in Lancelot’s mind for quite a long time. Long enough that Lancelot started looking around for any signs of blue quills being up to no good or for any signs of observant emerald green eyes, yet to no avail.

All distracted thoughts ceased to exist, however, when his house was caught in fire, lit by those envious of Gerald Robotnik’s bookstore’s success when Lancelot had just turned 12 years old.

In that fire, both Gerald Robotnik and Maria Robotnik died.

The only reason Lancelot survived was because of the knight who had managed to save him.

It was at that moment when the black hedgehog made the decision to train to become a knight; to be able to help those in need just as the knight who had saved him had saved his life.

When the knight heard of Lancelot’s new purpose, he offered a room under the palace’s roof, and, in return for the accommodations, asked that the black hedgehog would train to be a knight that would serve the royalties and Camelot.

Nowhere to go and nowhere to return to, Lancelot agreed.

Lancelot was 16 when he crossed paths with the blue hedgehog again. At the training grounds of the soon-to-be knights after rudely interrupting a spar the black hedgehog was having with another fellow knight.

Unlike the first time they met, the blue hedgehog was prim and proper, clean and groomed, and frustratingly handsome; with a charming and easygoing smile on his lips as he deflected a slash of sword by Lancelot.

“I told you our paths will cross again.” the blue hedgehog said, referring to his last few words from years ago.

Out of spite and because he could, Lancelot purposely applied more pressure into his next attack, causing the blue hedgehog who was surprised by the sudden strength to tumble into the ground, unable to reach for his sword when the black hedgehog stepped on it.

Pointing his sword and looking down at the blue hedgehog, Lancelot glared, and completely missed the surprised and horrified gasps and looks around him.

“You also told me I could attack you as much as I please if I were to become a knight, did you not?” Lancelot inquired, not really as a question but more so as a reminder before he lifted his foot off the blue hedgehog’s sword, retracting his sword and demanding:

“Spar with me.”

Sparring with the blue hedgehog became a common occurrence. A daily occurrence.

It became more and more obvious to Lancelot that everyone aside from him and a few exceptions seemed to always be in a state of discomfort whenever the blue hedgehog was around. This ‘state of discomfort’ somehow became even more palpable whenever Lancelot was in the same room as the blue hedgehog.

The blue hedgehog who was adamant about not telling Lancelot his name.

“The others were uttering nonsense again.” Lancelot ranted after yet another spar between him and Blue, a touch more annoyed than usual as he recalled how his roommates, a talkative green hawk, and an equally nosy red echidna, were saying that there seemed to be something going on between the hedgehogs.

Blue, as always, seemed to find delight in Lancelot’s suffering, laughter bubbling up his throat easily at the black hedgehog’s words.

“What did Lamorak and Gawain say this time?” Blue asked, cheery, and seemed to be in a positive and bright mood - even if he had lost to Lancelot during their spar.

“The same thing as any other day: that we could not take our eyes and hands off each other. Do they thrive from seeing me suffer, or do they just have nothing better to do than stick their noses in someone else’s business and draw horrid conclusions themselves?” Lancelot huffed, letting himself lay down on the cool grass underneath him to cool himself down somewhat.

A spar would usually calm him down, but it seemed that the annoyance steadily building up in Lancelot’s heart was becoming too unbearable and overflowing after all.

Just like how it was unusual that Lancelot somehow hadn’t let out enough steam, Blue was unusually quiet at the black hedgehog’s words.

Oftentimes, whenever Lancelot ended up complaining about his roommates, the blue hedgehog would try calming the black hedgehog down by reminding the black hedgehog that his roommates ‘meant no harm’.

This time, however, even when Lancelot was aware of the blue hedgehog sitting beside him, the blue hedgehog still remained silent.

The only reason Lancelot was sure that the blue hedgehog hadn’t fallen asleep was because he could feel that the other hedgehog was staring holes into his face. (Lately, Blue had made ‘staring at Lancelot for a prolonged and unexplainable silence’ a habit.)

Just when Lancelot had almost enough of the silence, one of Blue’s hands went to cup a side of the black hedgehog’s face, and gently tilted it so the black hedgehog would look at him instead of the orange-hued sky due to the sun slowly setting.

Breath catching in his throat, Lancelot’s heart unnaturally startled in its beat at the odd way the blue hedgehog was looking at him.

For a fleeting moment, Lancelot wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him, or if his eyes had truly caught those green eyes drifting to his lips for a split moment.

All frustration and annoyance felt by the black hedgehog vanished in an instant as if they weren’t even there in the first place, and all of a sudden something ultimately odd yet warm could be felt in Lancelot’s chest - in his heart.

The next time Blue spoke, his voice was hushed. Soft. Meant to be kept between just the two of them.

“We are quite familiar with each other, are we not?”

It was a murmur, more than anything. A whisper.

Lancelot remembered the rush of heat to his cheeks at the blue hedgehog’s words. Lancelot remembered the abrupt and almost startled way he sat upright a second later, suddenly all too nervous to lock eyes with the blue hedgehog who he had considered a friend this whole time; nothing more and nothing less.

Most importantly, Lancelot remembered the awe and fondness that leaked off the blue hedgehog’s gaze when their gazes inevitably met.

Lancelot remembered leaving without a word, hands tingling to touch and cheeks tingling from the heat. He was incapable of looking at the blue hedgehog for almost a week before he could finally form a solid sentence without losing his train of thought or being distracted when he was around the blue hedgehog.

Both of them never dared to address the almost intimate moment shared between them - yet those private and closed shared moments grew increasingly frequent and often: a graze of knuckles, a brush on the shoulder, a hand placed on the other’s lower back, breaths a shy away from mingling when they ended up close to each other, one on the ground and the other straddling with a sword pressed to the loser’s neck.

It was exhilarating just as it was terrifying.

The black hedgehog, as brave as his peers often praised him to be, was, for once, terrified.

He had no one to turn to for advice. He would rather die than confide in his roommates or anyone, for that matter.

Right until the end, when a trial of some sort was held for the prince to choose a select number of knights for something he had planned, 21-year-old Lancelot never did talk about these feelings he harbored for the blue hedgehog.

Just when Lancelot had vowed to himself that he would confront the blue hedgehog with his feelings after the trial, regardless if he was selected or not, the blue hedgehog had something else stored for him - something that he should have seen from a mile away.

Having won the spar, the last part of the trial, Lancelot stood upright out of respect for his sparring partner, and tried to shake off the feeling of familiarity he could feel all over when he was sparring with the prince.

The prince’s identity had always been kept hidden for the sake of the heir to the throne’s safety, and all announcements and words from the said prince were often passed to the knights-in-training by their instructor or other relevant figures.

When Lancelot sparred with the prince, the prince wore a visor.

The familiarity of the fluid movements of the prince should have been a dead giveaway.

Taking off his visor, a triumphant, smug smile could be seen on Blue’s lips; the most triumphant smile Lancelot had ever seen donned by someone who had just lost a spar.

“You never cease to amaze me, Lancelot.” the prince had said, offering a hand for the black hedgehog to shake while the said black hedgehog tried to ignore the sharp and almost intense stare he could feel from where the king was watching the spars took place.

Hands clammy and shaky, Lancelot let muscle memory dictate his next action to take, and allowed himself to accept the offered hand of the prince.

As usual, Lancelot’s hand tingled the tiniest bit more when Blue kept his hold on the black hedgehog’s hand firm - even if they were holding hands for far too long for it to be casual.

“Nice to meet you, Sir Lancelot. I’m Arthur. Prince of Camelot.

Welcome to the Knights of the Round Table.”

For the next few days, Lancelot wasn’t able to catch a glimpse of the prince. He could only assume that the other no longer had free time to spend with him because the prince’s coronation was approaching.

“How long have the two of you known? About Blue’s- His Highness identity?” Lancelot asked his fellow knights, Sir Gawain and Sir Lamorak, one night when the silence from the blue hedgehog and the unusual prolonged distance between them was getting much too hard to deal with.

“Right from the start.” Gawain had answered, explaining how the prince had personally scouted for him and introduced himself as the prince.

Lamorak said that he was also scouted in a similar way, and when they asked how Lancelot was scouted, the black hedgehog explained that the prince didn’t bother to introduce himself, and instead was playing the part of a wanted criminal of some sort.

When the echidna and the hawk merely laughed and cackled, Lancelot decided he would leave those two be lest he would find himself strangling both knights, heading for nowhere in particular and letting his feet lead.

By the time he had started focusing on his surroundings, he found himself at the training ground. The training ground where a familiar figure could be seen standing in the middle of it all, looking around in silence.

Lancelot had meant to leave without making a sound, but Arthur knew his footsteps, even if barely audible, all too well.

“Afraid of committing treason, is it Lance?” Arthur asked aloud, halting Lancelot’s steps altogether as the black hedgehog’s heartbeat spiked.

It took a few moments for Lancelot to collect himself before he turned to face the prince, remaining still at his spot and lowering his gaze to the ground. (Whether it was out of respect for the prince or whether it was the fear of being perceived, Lancelot was not sure.)

“...I do not harbor any ill intention towards you, Your Highness,” Lancelot said as an answer, afraid of looking up.

When the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard coming from the blue hedgehog’s direction, Lancelot almost bolted.

“Do you, now?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not feel deceived?”

“...what I feel is irrelevant, Your Highness. You were simply looking for promising individuals to make your knights. Regardless of your approach to the solution, I am sure that you have managed to achieve the best solution.”

Truthfully, Lancelot truly did not feel deceived.

If it wasn’t for the annoying stranger who planted the idea to be a knight in his head, Lancelot wouldn’t have considered becoming a knight. Yet here he was, a knight, with a purpose.

To serve the prince. To serve Camelot.

He couldn’t find it in him to be upset.

“Lance.”

The soft and gentle tone was far too familiar for the knight. It was not a tone a prince should use for a mere knight.

Before Lancelot could say anything, two hands cupped his face, and the black hedgehog let his face be tilted so that the prince could get a proper look at him.

“You are becoming what I fear you would become.” the prince continued, cradling his knight’s face in his hands, eyes too soft and gentle that they were prompting these unnecessary feelings from the black hedgehog.

Lancelot allowed himself a swallow before he asked.

“And what is it that you fear would become of me?”

“Distant.” the prince answered, ears drooped and eyes saddened.

“I am here, am I not?” Lancelot countered, not expecting one of the prince’s hands to suddenly settle on his waist, pressing a gentle squeeze there and prompting warmth to nestle there at the point of contact.

“Yet you are not.” the prince murmured, the hand still on Lancelot’s face adjusting their faces so their breaths intermingle.

Fortunately, before anything could happen, the sound of chatters from presumable maids and butlers still walking in the halls could be heard, and Lancelot chose that as an excuse to gently place a hand on the prince’s chest and give it a light push, his other hand taking off the hand on his waist as he pointedly kept his eyes on the blue hedgehog’s chest - anywhere but the prince’s face.

“It’s getting late, Your Highness. Shall I accompany you to your chambers?” Lancelot offered, waiting with bated breath for the prince’s reply as he stared a hole in the ground before the prince silently agreed.

True to his words, Lancelot accompanied the prince to the prince’s chambers, and once the blue hedgehog was safely inside the room, the knight was about to turn away and return to his own room when his wrist was held.

By the time Lancelot turned to ask what was wrong, his hand was already lifted, and his heart traitorously skipped a beat when he found his prince pressing a gentle and brief kiss to the black hedgehog’s wrist.

“Promise me you will not change.” the prince murmured, right into the black hedgehog’s knuckles.

That was how Lancelot knew he was in much too deep to be able to pretend like nothing had happened.

***

Chapter Text

Spending Less Time Together

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Time: “the measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues.”

***

Being crowned the king at the tender age of 21 years old seemed a bit excessive in Lancelot's opinion. Then again; his opinion did not matter to anyone in power - especially to the royal family.

Arthur was the sole heir to the throne, and due to his father's quickly deteriorating health, it was not difficult to see the blue hedgehog rising to the throne at such an early age.

“You need not worry, Lancelot. I have known him longer than you have, considering his father had introduced me to him when I was 8. He had always been too wise for his age - as if he was always meant to be the king.” Galahad, another Knight of the Round Table, said when he somehow managed to figure out what was running in Lancelot's mind from a mere lingering stare as the king sat on his throne, attending to coming citizens with their demands and whatnot.

“I have never cared for what was going on with the palace before. It still baffles me how everyone seemed to not mind that the fate of the kingdom lies in the hands of a 21-year-old who was widely known for his mischievous streaks and sneaking out.” Lancelot let himself complain to the silver hedgehog, gaze eventually drifting away from the blue hedgehog on the throne when the king's eyes met his for a brief moment.

It was something that Lancelot found quite… eerie when it came to the blue hedgehog. Lately, it seemed that Arthur seemed to always know when the black hedgehog had his eyes on the king.

Galahad laughed quietly at Lancelot's words, and the black hedgehog raised a quizzical eye ridge at the sudden show of amusement.

“What is so amusing? Is my concern for the fate of the kingdom amusing to you, Sir Galahad?” Lancelot inquired, a frown instinctively on his lips directed at the silver hedgehog.

The silver hedgehog shook his head from side to side, seeming to want to shake the remaining laughter left in him, and gave Lancelot a smile that the black hedgehog was growing increasingly familiar with.

It helped that everyone seemed to like to give him smiles of a similar manner.

“Do not take this the wrong way, Sir Lancelot. I simply found it… endearing that you complained about His Majesty being on the throne when it is well known that you are his biggest supporter.” Galahad provided the explanation Lancelot had seen coming from a mile away as soon as he saw the knowing smile on the silver knight’s lips, tone a touch teasing but mostly remaining conversational.

While Lancelot wanted to deny that statement, he also knew that it was merely the truth.

Arthur had made it a habit to call on Lancelot whenever he wanted to. Whether he was bored, or whether he needed a hand with whatever duties he was attending to, the king had developed a tendency to call for the black hedgehog often.

A mix of reactions was received by the blatant show of ‘favoritism’, namely awe, admiration, dissatisfaction, and envy.

In all honesty, Lancelot was not pleased to have any of those emotions directed at him. At all.

Despite the many times Lancelot had advised the king to at least tone down the obvious and shameless display of favoring a knight over the others, Arthur remained adamant to stick to his ways.

It baffled the black hedgehog. Out of everything that the blue hedgehog was able to be childish about, why was it that he chose something so unnecessary to be immature about?

It was becoming harder for the black hedgehog to advise the blue hedgehog to drop his unsightly habit when the king was becoming more and more… reliable in Lancelot’s eyes.

The feelings he had realized had been festering in his heart for so long were still as present as ever, and as much as Lancelot found himself nitpicking on certain ways of the king’s, it was also during this internal complaining could he see just how amazing Arthur was for a 21-year-old king.

Ducking his head and suddenly finding the wall on the other side of the throne room intriguing, Lancelot gave Galahad’s words a half-hearted reply.

“It is merely my contribution to the fate of the kingdom. Surveying the king’s decisions and work serves to give me a semblance of comfort, knowing that at least I would know beforehand if the kingdom was ever to come to ruins.”

Lancelot had never thought of himself as someone capable of cracking jokes, but it seemed that Galahad did not share his opinion, judging from the loud amused snort that the silver knight was unable to contain in time.

At the sound, the hall grew silent in the blink of an eye, and, this time around, Lancelot let himself smile behind his visor as he could feel the embarrassment radiating off the silver hedgehog beside him.

Fortunately, before the silver hedgehog could evaporate from the heat of sheer embarrassment alone, Arthur could be heard clasping his hands together before the action was followed by the blue hedgehog’s words.

“It appears that this session has been stretched for far too long. Sir Lancelot sounded like he was in dire need of a much-needed break at the moment.

Head to the palace’s cafeteria for lunch, everyone. Return once Sir Galahad informs you of the end of the break.”

The black hedgehog’s eyes widened in offense at the king’s wrong accusation, and he refrained from snapping at the silver hedgehog beside him who started trembling from holding in his laughter at the king’s words.

At the king’s words, everyone made to leave the throne room, leaving only Galahad, Lancelot, and a few other royal guards stationed at the throne room.

With a wave of a hand, Arthur beckoned for the two Knights of the Round Table to come closer to him, and the hedgehogs obliged to the wordless demand.

Once both hedgehogs had reached their king, Arthur smiled pleasantly - especially more once the knight pushed up their visors so he could get a good look at his knights’ faces.

“Galahad; please inform the others to return to the throne room once half an hour has passed.” The blue hedgehog gave his order, smiling in appreciation when Galahad dutifully nodded.

As if a thought came to mind, Arthur snapped his fingers, before he thoughtfully put his fingers on his chin.

“Ah. And before I forget. I would like to ask the two of you about your opinions on something that has been on my mind lately.

I know my father has always preferred meeting citizens face to face to talk about demands and needs, but what do the two of you think about having them send a… proposal of some sort by letters and papers? That way, I will be able to go through them and decide for myself which are worthwhile and urgent and which are not. It would save the time and money of many, would you not agree?” Arthur asked, earning himself two different answers from his knight.

Galahad, of course, agreed. Most people often agree with whatever Arthur uttered because, to a majority, he is the definition of wise. Nothing necessarily wrong with that mindset, but Lancelot knew the blue hedgehog all too well for him to not be able to see only the word ‘wise’ to define his blue king.

“I… can see where you are coming from. Perhaps we should consider implementing that.”

Of course, Lancelot decided to point out the blatant flaw in the king’s solution.

“But Your Majesty, your schedule is already packed enough as it is. You will not have sufficient time to go over the paperwork and meet with the citizens whose proposal you approved.”

Arthur turned his attention to the black hedgehog at the knight’s words, and the king’s smile turned the slightest bit mischievous.

“Why, will I not have you to aid me in going over those proposals?” The blue hedgehog pointed out as a counterargument, a smug expression in full display.

“Your Majesty, I believe those proposals would be more appropriate to be gone through by your advisors rather than myself, considering they have the qualifications necessary while I am a mere-“

“Galahad.”

Lancelot immediately stopped talking when the king interjected his words by calling his fellow knight, and the black hedgehog hoped that his quills did not bristle too obviously.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Head to the cafeteria and enjoy your lunch. Bring the rest of the guards with you.

Leave Lance and I by ourselves. Lance is enough to protect me.” Arthur ordered, smiling all the while.

Without much complaint, Galahad abided by the blue hedgehog’s wishes, and it wasn’t long before the blue hedgehog and the black hedgehog were left all by themselves.

Only when they were truly alone did Arthur’s tensed shoulders go from being poised and proper for so long to relaxed, slumping on the throne rather gracefully for someone who was quietly exhausted.

“Lance, would it kill you to not complain about me for at least an hour or two?” Arthur sighed, sounding both exasperated yet amused. (Fond, too, if Lancelot dared to admit.)

“I was not complaining about you,” Lancelot said without missing a beat, remaining by his spot and standing as he kept his face facing forward, eyes glancing at his king for a moment or two occasionally.

Arthur laughed, raising an amused eye ridge.

“Right. Pardon me. You were ranting.” The king corrected himself, knowing full well that he was right on both occasions.

Lancelot grunted in affirmation, but offered no other words as a response.

At the silence, the king stood back up, and took almost measured steps before he came to stand in front of the black hedgehog, eyes calculating and thoughtful.

“Would you like to know what else I have in mind, Sir Lancelot?” The king asked, gaze not faltering for even a moment.

“…I would be honored to know, Your Majesty.” was Lancelot’s answer.

Gingerly, Arthur lifted the visor off Lancelot's face - Lancelot hadn't remembered even lowering it down in the first place - and he gave every inch of the knight's features a long look before he shed light on what it was that he had in mind.

“I was pondering over what a shame it was that I couldn’t see your pretty face behind the metal visor. Do you think everyone would agree if I were to suggest the rule of 'needing knights to wear visors at all times in case of unexpected dangers' to be erased?”

No matter how many times Lancelot had tried to feign being unfazed whenever the king pulled such sweet compliments for him, the black hedgehog once again found himself unable to remain composed in terms of the redness in his cheeks.

He was grateful that at least his voice remained unbothered and unaffected.

“I believe you do not need to trouble yourself with something so trivial, Your Majesty. You have other urgent and of the utmost importance duties to attend to.

…I also believe that the rule should remain, for the sake of everyone’s safety.” Lancelot spoke, gaze undeterred even if internally he was embarrassed for the redness that he was sure had dusted his face.

In response to Lancelot’s words, Arthur let his knuckles brush the side of the black hedgehog’s face, and put on an all-too-knowing look.

“For the sake of everyone’s safety, or is it for your own ‘dignity’, Lance? Too afraid everyone would start noticing how often it is that you turn a lovely shade of red whenever I as much as charm you?” the king drawled, fully expecting the way the black hedgehog took a step back, unable to take any more of the king’s antics.

Abruptly pulling his visor down, and unfortunately only proving the king’s words somewhat true, Lancelot cleared his throat, and focused his gaze on the king’s nose instead of those almost hypnotizing emerald green eyes and charming smile.

“This is terribly inappropriate, Your Majesty.” Lancelot stammered, too worked up to keep his tone even and steady.

Arthur laughed, something he had always liked to do too much to Lancelot’s disdain, and raised an eye ridge in a questioning manner at the knight.

“What part of our interaction would you deem ‘inappropriate’, Sir Lancelot? Unprofessional, I would understand. But inappropriate?

I am merely asking one of my trustworthy and wonderful knights for advice.” the king questioned, not bothering to hide how much fun he was having just from getting on the black hedgehog’s nerve.

The king everyone had grown to know more and more about may be one of the wisest kings they had the pleasure of serving or being under the rule of, but to Lancelot, Arthur was a king who knew the cards in his hands all too well.

If life was a game, then Arthur was somehow both the dealer and the player: capable of choosing his own cards to play and not needing something as flimsy as luck to ‘win’.

“That may be true, but I do still believe that we are spending far too much time together.” Lancelot decided to go ahead and change the topic altogether, directing their focus to the issue Galahad had brought up just a few minutes ago.

The smile on Arthur’s lips was immediately gone, replaced by a scowl that had become all too familiar to the black hedgehog, often coming out whenever the king did not want to address a situation or topic.

“What is wrong with a king spending every hour of the day with his knight? Is it not a knight’s job to ensure the safety of the one he serves?” Arthur repeated the same argument he would always use whenever Lancelot tried to breach this topic.

“It is indeed a knight’s job to protect the king. However, I am not your only knight, and while you are looked up to, revered, and admired by most currently, it is vital for us to not look over those who have shown dissatisfaction and skepticism over your unabashed show of favoritism. If we do not take the appropriate measures to remedy this, the number of people who do not view you highly may just increase to the point of no return and unmanageable.

I am sure you remember the importance of not intentionally brewing animosity inside the kingdom and the importance of taking care of an issue before it grows larger than one’s capabilities, yes? With these two importance in mind, I truly believe that you should consider at least toning down your need to have me by your side every second of the day.” Lancelot, unlike Arthur, made an effort to come up with a different rebuttal.

Like a child throwing a tantrum, the king crossed his arms over his chest, lips pursed adamantly in a scowl just as before as he asked the black hedgehog seriously.

“Be fully transparent with me, Lance. Are you not pleased by the fact that you are my favorite?”

Stunned by the king’s blatant words, the knight gaped in surprise at the king, and didn’t get to utter even another word before the king was speaking once again.

“May I remind you that this is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. Your justifications for the answer that I am sure that we both know of are irrelevant - and even if they are relevant, it is only because we are both also aware of the justifications.”

Then the answer would be an instant ‘yes’.

As much as Lancelot often complained, it was undeniable that being called upon by the king all the time made him feel proud of what he achieved. After all, unlike some who claimed that the king only ever favored the black hedgehog because of their ‘fling’ during their training days, Lancelot knew that Arthur was not one to favor someone simply based on personal relations.

The black hedgehog himself had once asked why it was always him that was summoned by the king, and Arthur himself had explained in great detail that he acknowledged that currently, among the five Knights of the Round Table, Lancelot had the best overall skills: swordsmanship, leadership, strategist, and other skills that the black hedgehog could not recall.

Arthur had always been observant, even when he was at a younger age. It was this trait that led him to find Lancelot, after all. (Lancelot had accused the king of stalking, but the king vehemently insisted that it was scouting.)

So, the answer to Arthur’s question was an unhesitant ‘yes’. Lancelot loved that his skills were seen and acknowledged and that the hard work he had made the past few years was able to bear to fruition.

However, answering ‘yes’ would be to drop the topic Lancelot had brought up for the millionth time once again, and the black hedgehog felt that he was unfortunately too ‘prideful’ to ‘give in’.

Having spent too much time pondering to admit truthfully, to lie, or to deflect, the knight’s hesitance itself was an answer in a language the king just so happened to be fluent in after spending so much time with the black hedgehog, which caused the scowl on the king’s lips to be gone in the blink of an eye and replaced with his signature charming one once again.

“Your silence is satisfyingly loud, Lance. It is so easy to see what one has in mind when they are your favorite book to read and understand.” Arthur drawled, looking all too pleased with himself as he made his way to the throne, taking a seat on it and sweetly smiling at the black hedgehog whose hands were figuratively tied behind his back.

The sound of footsteps approaching the throne room could be heard from the outside a moment later, and Lancelot was not able to say another word as the king used up the remaining alone time they shared to say a piece of his own mind.

“Join me in my study once this is all over, Sir Lancelot. Your help and company are much appreciated.”

Two rapid knocks reverberated in the spacious throne room, before the tall double doors were slowly opened, revealing a familiar silver hedgehog hesitantly looking around - as if he had expected to see something not for his eyes and having prepared himself to close the door if needed to.

When his eyes landed on the two hedgehogs, a look of relief graced Galahad’s features, and only then did he open the doors wider so that both citizens and royal guards alike were able to fill the room so they could continue with their session that was put on hold.

Lancelot remained by the king’s side until everyone had found their place in the room, staying cautious and alarmed for surprise assassination attempts or attacks alike. Threats and dangers of the sort were common when it came to the life of royalty, and Lancelot would not risk his king’s life by taking light of such matters.

With the guards having returned to their stations, Lancelot made quick work of giving the blue hedgehog a short bow, fully intending to head to where Galahad was standing, when the king’s words stopped him from taking even a step further away.

“Sir Lancelot. How about you join me and help me make up my mind?”

Just when Lancelot had been telling him to tone down with the ‘favoritism’ too…

“...I am afraid that doing so would force me to cross boundaries that I am underserving of crossing. I am a knight, and while it is my duty to protect you, I am afraid that I would be of no assistance to you in regards to-”

“Lance, you denying my order is doing the opposite of ‘protecting’ my dignity, would you not agree?” Arthur interjected, smiling innocently at the black hedgehog who, once again, found his hands tied behind his back.

With not much option left, Lancelot resigned to his fate, and made way to stand beside the blue hedgehog who was comfortably seated on the throne, looking increasingly more comfortable and triumphant when he had the black hedgehog right where he wanted the knight to be.

Lancelot had thought the king would drop it now that he had ‘won’, but then the blue hedgehog gave a question for the next citizen he was supposed to speak to: a two-tailed fox who the knight recognized as one of the most talented blacksmiths in Camelot.

“Good afternoon, blacksmith.” Arthur had started, voice warm paired with an equally warm smile as he continued, “I hope you would not mind that we do not jump straight into what it is that you need, for there is something that I have to ask your opinion of. You see, my fellow knight here, Sir Lancelot, is awfully troubled by something.”.

Did he have to drag an innocent citizen who was looking very close to fainting due to anxiousness into this?

Admirably, the fox mustered a nod, and gave Lancelot a fleeting glance before he returned his gaze to the king, seeming to have been intimidated by the black hedgehog. (Lancelot was sure that had he not worn a visor, the fox would positively be making an effort to not make eye contact with the glare the knight was fully aware of in his eyes, intentional or subconscious.)

“Have you ever heard of the rumors that I play favorites, young one?” the king asked, not bothered by the sudden chill that suddenly could be felt in the room.

A swallow and a hesitant glance at Lancelot later, the fox spoke his mind and gave the king an answer.

“...I have, Your Majesty.”

“And what do you make of this rumor, then?”

“...I believe it is not in my business to mind whether the rumor is true or not, and rather than discussing rumors, I rather believed what I have seen with my own eyes.”

“And what is it that you have observed ever since you first saw Lancelot and I interacting?”

“...a… mutual respect of some sort. Your Majesty is wise and observant, and Sir Lancelot’s reputation has far exceeded people’s expectations, and it is well-known that he is a capable knight, if not one of the most capable knights.

I believe it would only make sense that Your Majesty enjoy the company of a remarkable knight such as Sir Lancelot.”

Pleased by the fox’s answer, Arthur turned to look at Lancelot, and his smile was somehow able to be all polite, smug, and triumphant.

It frustrated Lancelot that it was not a reach to say only he was able to notice the complicated mix of feelings hidden in that smile.

“See, Lance? The young one understands me.” Arthur said, his tone taking a chiding lilt to it, yet it was soft and gentle - as if he was talking to a child instead of a 21-year-old hedgehog.

Unable to think of a good response, all Lancelot did as a response was a nod and a quiet ‘my apologies’ loud enough for only his and the king’s ears, and Arthur waved a hand in dismissal at the apology before he finally focused on his royal duties.

For someone who asked Lancelot to stand by his side so they could ‘make decisions together’, Arthur never really did ask for the black hedgehog’s opinions. It almost felt like the king simply wanted to show off the knight for… incomprehensible reasons.

Arthur had always been an enigma; in the sense that sometimes he was Lancelot’s mother language, and the next he seemed to be musical notes that the black hedgehog, for the life of him, would never be able to comprehend nor grasp.

By the time the throne room was left filled with only Arthur, Lancelot, Galahad, and the stationed royal guards, Lancelot had not once spoken and had remained silent.

A mixture of feelings swirled in Lancelot’s heart, but the one that overpowered him as he blurted out his next words was befuddlement.

“Sire. You never asked me of anything despite having me stand by your side for the latter half of the day.”

Lancelot was unsure of what to feel when the king seemed to have expected those words from his faithful knight.

“My mind clears significantly when I have you by my side, Lance. Your presence alone is enough to be of help to me.” the king replied without missing a beat, his smile warm as it was directed to a speechless Lancelot.

At times, Arthur was everything Lancelot could ever imagine in a close-to-perfection king. Other times, less frequently and almost seldom, the black hedgehog wondered if it was a king like Arthur whom he would be satisfied serving.

Little did he know, it would be Arthur who taught him the meaning of loyalty that knows no bounds.

***

Chapter Text

Feelings of Apathy

***

Apathy: “a lack of interest and emotional expression.”

***

Something had shifted between them.

A huge attack was launched on the palace. Rebellions, those who deemed that Arthur was too young and unworthy of being a king, managed to go under the radar and sneak into the palace, attacking during a ball hosted by the king after a year of peace under his rule.

It was fortunate that Arthur was by Lancelot’s side when it happened. Had he not, Lancelot would have been worried sick and unable to focus on defending and protecting the other guests and attendees caught in the crossfire.

(It was also this fact that troubled Lancelot. Sir Percival had pointed it out before, if only out of concern: how the black hedgehog’s usually fair and reliable judgment often was prone to be clouded whenever it involved the king.

“It used to not be this concerning, Lancelot. I do hope you know that everyone cares and will protect the king, and that it is not your burden to carry alone.” Percival had reminded him, a consoling hand on the black hedgehog’s shoulder.)

Indeed, over the year, something had indeed shifted between the two hedgehogs.

Too many assassination attempts were made for Arthur’s life, and too many times Lancelot could do nothing but wait for the king to recover, for the preferred methods of these assassins were dangers the knight was incapable of dealing with - like poisons.

For every time Arthur was at death’s door, Lancelot would find himself learning yet another of the king’s traits that the black hedgehog had found himself holding dear to his heart.

His heart. Perhaps his ambiguous relationship with the king was affecting his capabilities much more than he had thought.

Creating distance would indeed do him a favor to lose those feelings, yet he couldn’t find it in him to be apart from the blue hedgehog.

Apathy has always never come easy to Lancelot when it comes to Arthur.

At the ball, the attack was huge, well-planned, and strategized - almost as if they had an informant from the inside telling them of the guards’ and knights’ patrols and stations.

As usual, Arthur had been pestering and fooling around with the black hedgehog, asking for the knight’s hand to dance when Lancelot caught a glint of metal of an arrow, aiming straight for the two of them.

In that short second when the arrow was slicing through the air, Lancelot momentarily realized the arrow was aimed at him, but he had no time to ponder as he pulled out his sword and deflected the arrow, just in time to parry an attack with a sword coming from a guest.

The sound of clashing swords was the trigger for several other guests to take out their swords, and it became obvious who were foes and who were allies when Lancelot noticed the similar yet hidden badges some of the guests wore - specifically those who were attacking the knights and the guards.

Just when Lancelot was about to tell his king to find safety, the sound of a sword nearby parrying an attack made for him could be heard, and the black hedgehog’s eyes widened as he realized his king somehow managed to have a sword in hand.

Showing off his newly acquired sword, Arthur grinned, arrogant yet charming, and vaguely gestured at a foe of theirs lying unconscious on the floor, his sword not in sight.

“Please, Lance. Put some faith in your king’s capabilities, will you? Do you not know that your king could fare excellently in a fight?” Arthur drawled, punctuating his point when he deflected an attack coming from behind the black hedgehog.

A mix of both impressed and infuriated, Lancelot gritted his teeth and knocked a disguised foe that was trying to sneak an attack from behind him unconscious with the heel of his own sword, looking at the king with disapproval.

“Sire, I am familiar with your skills that you love flaunting.”

“You like it when I demonstrate and show off.”

“But this is no child’s play, and this is, as you can see, happening. I will not carelessly handle your life by letting you partake in a battle that is not yours.” Lancelot said with finality, properly looking at his king so the blue hedgehog would take his words seriously.

The decision to do just that, however, became perhaps Lancelot’s biggest mistake of the night, because a guest on the floor whom the knight had thought was unconscious used their last remaining energy to swipe a dart at the black hedgehog's ankle.

As soon as whatever lacing the dart caused Lancelot’s vision to swirl and his head to spin, he came to the conclusion that it was poison.

Deliriously frantic and head a pounding mess, Lancelot barked aloud for Lamorak, and willed himself to remain standing in front of his king, protectively putting an arm in front of the blue hedgehog and threatening anyone approaching with a glare and a snarl.

Lamorak may be the fastest among everyone in the Knights of the Round Table - aside from Lancelot himself, possibly. He had to be the one to escort the king to safety. Gawain and Galahad were better off here dealing with their foes, and Percival had to give out orders for both the innocent guests and the guards for safety and efficiency.

If Lancelot could just get to Percival so she could give him temporary aid while Lamorak gets Arthur to safety, then perhaps things would work out.

Fortunately, before Lancelot could fall into a kneel, Lamorak came and thwarted most of those who had darts in their hands, and immediately noticed the state the black hedgehog was in.

Judging from the unusual concern shown on the hawk’s face, Lancelot must have looked worse than how he was feeling.

“Lancelot-! You need immediate treatment! This- why is His Majesty still here?!” Lamorak exclaimed, talking to Lancelot and rudely ignoring Arthur’s offended ‘I’m right here’ comment in favor of addressing his poisoned friend.

This was no time for interrogation, and Lancelot had to make sure the king was brought to safety before he could focus on getting himself treated.

“Lamorak, I need you to escort the king to somewhere safer. It seems that these people are aiming for both His Majesty and I, so it is best that we do not stick together and make things easier for them.

Stay by his side until the situation is under control. Do not let him out of your sight. I trust your speed will allow you to keep up with him well enough if he tries to be reckless.” Lancelot gave out his orders, ignoring the concerned look Lamorak was still giving him.

The black hedgehog was meant to turn to look at the king to emphasize that the blue hedgehog shall, for once, not cause trouble by being uncooperative, but the poison’s effects were starting to affect Lancelot greatly, and he ended up falling right into the king’s arms when he lost the feeling in his legs.

Head spinning, words meant for himself and words he meant to say came out mixing together and the slightest bit slurred.

“Leave with Lamorak at once, Blue. I will not be able to rest until I am sure that you are safe and away from here.

The Knights of the Round Table will have everything under control, so make haste on keeping yourself safe. Stay by Lamorak’s side and do not cause him any more unnecessary trouble. He will have his hands full with just protecting you.

Please cooperate just this once, Arthur. I do not want to see you harmed in any way.”

Unlike usual, Arthur’s reply did not come as a quip nor a purposely taunting reply, and Lancelot was unsure of how many moments passed when the blue hedgehog spoke up.

Whenever Arthur gave out orders and such, he always made sure to keep his tone almost casual, if only because he was one to believe that one could always choose to rule without needing to raise their voice.

This time, however, for the first time since Lancelot had gotten to know the blue hedgehog, Arthur spoke with a seriousness that would put the black hedgehog himself to shame.

Arthur had always been capable of speaking while making the authoritative-casual tone work; so Lancelot hadn’t realized how bone-chilling it would be when the blue hedgehog dropped all pretense and focused on solely being authoritative.

“Lamorak,” Arthur spoke, causing Lancelot’s heart to stutter before its heartbeat briefly spiked up when he was swiftly carried in a bridal carry, unhelpful in the way that it merely made the black hedgehog’s head spin harder.

“…uh- yes, sire?”

“Keep the situation here under control. I will bring Lance to safety myself.

I know the twists and turns of this palace better than anyone else. Do not worry about my safety, and focus on helping Percival with what’s at hand.

I will return once I treat my knight to take the lead. Until then; make sure you lot do your job as great as always.”

Lamorak, the traitor, nodded at the king’s words, and immediately did as he was told.

In all fairness, it was indeed Arthur who Lamorak was supposed to serve, but Lanceot's pain-addled mind couldn’t help but be offended that his knight so quickly disregarded his own orders.

The next few minutes were a blur in Lancelot’s mind, and by the time the pain in his head ceased and the oxygen in his lungs no longer felt scarce, he found himself lying on a bed in a small room he recognized as one of the rooms meant for a king to stay in if unexpected dangers went passed the guards.

Blinking blearily to gain a clearer mind, Lancelot made to sit upright on his bed, but was stopped from doing so when firm hands were on his shoulders and pushing him down onto the bed.

“Lance.” Arthur’s voice coaxed, somehow having the opposite effect of coaxing and only making Lancelot more frantic.

“Arthur-! You have to stay here! It is my duty to keep you safe, and what kind of knight am I if I let the king I serve head straight for what I know is a threat to his life-?”

“Lance. I'm serious. You can rely on me - at least just for tonight, can you please cast aside that ego of yours and let me protect you? I can safely say that I am in much more of a better state to protect myself than you could protect me at the moment.

Your wound? I treated it. Neat and quick, just as how I would handle the chaos that is unfolding in the ballroom as we are speaking.

I am not fond of using this card, but I am your king, and it is according to my orders you shall act.

My order for you at the moment, is to recover. As quickly as possible.

I have matters to attend to. People to defeat, capture, hold responsible, and tell them to not ever harm even a quill on your head.” Arthur interjected, voice hard and leaving no room for argument - yet softened from the affection and care leaking from it.

As if the whole world was against Lancelot fulfilling his duties as a knight, his whole body had gone relaxed at the blue hedgehog’s order, and the black hedgehog was helpless to his physical limits.

Unlike Lancelot who was having an internal struggle and suffering from not being capable of doing what he wanted, Arthur looked pleased that his knight wasn't making any move or rushing to leave.

With an almost proud smile on his lips, Arthur suddenly yet slowly leaned closed, rendering Lancelot's mind to go mute as his unconsciously frantic heartbeat started slowing down - significantly so once their foreheads were touching.

“That's right, love. Rest. I shall handle the rest.” Arthur murmured once Lancelot was no longer frantically heaving for air, having calmed down at mere physical contact with the blue hedgehog.

As unconsciousness consumed Lancelot whole, as he watched the back of his reliable king walking away from him, confidence palpable in his gait and form, only then did it dawn on the black hedgehog of his punishable mistake.

He had addressed the blue hedgehog as ‘Blue’. Someone he should have realized sooner who was no longer here.

The blue hedgehog was no longer the same blue hedgehog he had met at the bookstore. The blue hedgehog was no longer the friend he made during his simple knight days. The blue hedgehog was no longer someone who owed him private smiles and longing touches in private.

Arthur was no longer the infuriating stranger he thought he had ‘saved’. Arthur was no longer ‘Blue’. Arthur was no longer his alone.

It was something so obvious - yet Lancelot found himself realizing something so simple only now as he laid in bed, useless as a knight and unreliable as a… friend.

Ever since he woke up the next time, their dynamic shifted.

Lancelot maintained professionalism in every interaction, as he had deemed that the old ways were too ‘familiar’, and it was unsightly for a knight to be so ‘casual’ with his king.

It was becoming too obvious that he had been doing this all wrong.

Eventually, of course Arthur pointed it out.

They were in Arthur's chambers when the king pointed it out; the blue hedgehog at his desk with mountains of paperwork to go through, and the black hedgehog diligently and silently going through his own, larger stacks and mountains of paperwork as he was supposed to filter through which paperwork were ‘important enough’ for the king to go through.

“Sir Lancelot.”

“Yes, sire. Is there a problem with the paperwork I filtered?”

“Not with the paperwork you so diligently picked out for me, Lance. Not at all. The problem that I am struggling to wrap my head around, however, is,” Arthur quickly denied, pausing mid-sentence before gesturing between himself and Lancelot with a genuinely troubled frown, “us.”.

Distantly, Lancelot wondered what an achievement it was that he managed to make the usually free-of-troubles king troubled.

“I am not aware that there is a problem between us.” Lancelot replied, a part of him fully aware that the problem was more so a ‘change’ rather than a problem: a change that he knew Arthur would have been against had he come to realize the purpose of the change.

Arthur huffed, almost annoyed, and placed down one of the paperwork he was holding before standing up, the feet of his chair scratching against the marbled floor loud in the otherwise silent chamber.

“Ignorance is not a good look on you. You know exactly what I meant by my words.” Arthur gruffed, stepping away from his table and starting to make his way to where Lancelot was sitting at his own table worryingly.

(Nothing had changed in regards to the amount of time they spent together. In fact, perhaps Arthur had decided to bring up this topic specifically because Lancelot had been willingly spending time with him without complaining about favoritism.

What the king says goes, is it not?)

Calmly pausing in his own surf through the paperwork, Lancelot kept his expression neutral, and let himself meet the king's concerned gaze.

“I am unsure of what it is that you are insinuating, but, my king, I am merely adhering to the standard protocol of how a knight should converse with his king.

It is my fault for not honoring you the respect you deserve right from the start due to our past relationship, but I have learned from my mistakes, and I will continue to make it up to you for as long as I am capable of.” Lancelot calmly answered, standing up when Arthur was close enough and was standing right in front of his table out of courtesy.

The blue hedgehog groaned, loud and one of the most frustrated sounds Lancelot had ever heard from the king, before the said king loudly lamented.

“There are too many things that I would love to correct you just from those words alone, but my mind could not help but lose its focus when you call me that.”

Almost carelessly, the blue hedgehog took a seat on the empty space of Lancelot's table, a look in his eyes that dared the black hedgehog to ask for clarification.

“Is there something in particular that you are bothered with when I address you, sire?”

“Not that.”

“Your Majesty?”

“Not that either.”

There seemed to be impatience in those emerald green eyes, and Lancelot could see how the king was trying his best to be patient in spite of it all, staring rather unabashedly at the black hedgehog as he waited for the knight's answer with almost bated breath.

“...my king.” Lancelot eventually answered, correctly, judging from the smile immediately gracing the blue hedgehog’s lips.

“Yes. That.” Arthur reaffirmed, his legs kicking almost in an excited childlike manner.

Still seated on Lancelot's table and still with that almost hopeful look in his eyes, Arthur continued speaking.

“It tore me apart whenever you address me in such ways - both positively and negatively.

For one; it always lifts my spirits whenever you acknowledge me as your king.

However, addressing me as merely your king is also unknowingly erasing the past we shared with each other: the us before I became king and you became my closest and most trusted knight. The us when there could have been something more to us.”

Their conversation was heading into a trajectory Lancelot would not dare to cross. Not after… everything.

“Sire, I apologize, but the past is all a past, and I am now your knight before I am anybody else to you, just as you are my king before you are anybody else to me.” Lancelot stayed persistent, deciding that perhaps it was best that they called it a night. (He couldn't bear being in Arthur's vicinity when such a hurt look was so palpable in those usually warm green eyes.)

Preparing to leave, Lancelot walked away from his seat, trying to move as far away from the king as possible - lest he ended up wrapping the blue hedgehog in an embrace from the guilt of being the cause of such a forlorn expression on the king's face or from the need to console the king not as a knight.

“Perhaps it is time to call it a night, sire. We have covered plenty of paperwork for the day, enough so that you may be able to take it easy for tomorrow's schedules.

If you'll excuse me, I will take my leave for the night and head to my own chambers.” Lancelot quickly said, excusing himself in the same breath from fear of being unable to contain the overflowing emotions he was feeling.

His ‘escape’ was cut short when a hand was suddenly holding his wrist, and a tug was all it took to turn the knight's clear mind fogged.

Instinctively turning to look at the one holding his wrist, Lancelot's breath hitched at the almost determined look in the king's eyes as he asked seriously.

“Shall I order you to not be a knight anymore, then, Sir Lancelot?”

Shivers ran down the black hedgehog’s spine, and the king didn't wait for a reply before he tugged on the wrist in his hand harder, causing the black hedgehog to unwillingly take another step closer to the blue hedgehog to stabilize himself.

Faces too close for comfort, Arthur added another question that Lancelot would never dare to admit had his heart frantic and pleased.

He should not be pleased.

“Would stripping you of your duties allow you to look at me the way you used to look at me - like before we were just ‘us’, two hedgehogs who couldn't help but be drawn to each other?

Would not being a knight allow you to express your feelings for me like you used to?”

“Taking away my title and position would only mean another knight would take my place to spend their time with you, and if that is what you desire, I shall make it happen,” Lancelot responded, trying his best to remain calm yet faltering when his king insisted.

“It is you who I desire. It is you who I want to spend most of my time with - if not the rest of my life with.

Suggesting that you become a knight was a calculated choice. One I had never regretted, for it was your journey to becoming a knight that further brought us closer together.

Anointing you as a Knight of the Round Table was a calculated, well-thought, and well-reasoned choice, for your remarkable skills are as perfect as the company I enjoy with you.

So could you not do your king a favor and grant him his most desired wish?”

The slow way Arthur's hand was raised to caress the black hedgehog’s face was a stark contrast to the rapid heartbeat of the knight's heart in his chest, and Lancelot's lips trembled from trying to stop himself from going back against his words as he muttered, words almost wobbly as they left his lips.

“Is that an order, my king?”

A caress of a thumb to a corner of one of Lancelot's eyes could be felt before a soft reply came - not as an answer, but as a statement.

“Love should not be ordered, dearest Lance.”

Adjusting his palm on the black hedgehog’s face, Arthur tilted his knight's face so they could properly gaze into each other's eyes, and Lancelot tried to ignore the swooning of his heart. (Futile.)

“I know you could feel it too: us. It was going well before the attack at the ball happened. What changed?

I saw you bleeding and harmed, hence I take my stand as your king to take the lead so you could recover. So you could rest.

Is it so wrong of a king to want to do something for his knight for once?”

Despite being the one to ask the question, Arthur didn't bother to wait for an answer, and instead properly held Lancelot's face with both of his hands as he stared at his knight, a determined look on his face as he continued speaking.

“I know being a knight means a lot to you, and despite my words that are how I could always strip you of your title, I would never dare to take away your purpose, yet the dilemma stays which is that it appears to me I seem to not be able to have you as my knight and as something more.

If it is because you are a knight that you choose to keep yourself scarce, then it is as a king that I will face you as.

Sir Lancelot. Would you be so kind to at least allow me a kiss?”

The king's words didn't make any sense. What kind of knight dares to get physically involved with his king?

Yet the darkness of the night sky snuffed out the light that had been lighting Lancelot's mind to keep it clear, and the distant lull of birds and crickets from outside of the palace somehow was capable of shutting up any thoughts that dared to visit the knight's mind as he unwillingly turned a darker shade of red, noticing the almost shameless way the king was staring at his lips. (The king seemed to be trying his best to not stare, but that seemed to be a losing game.)

Subconsciously yet hesitantly, Lancelot leaned in, unsure if it was his longing heart or distracted mind that was making the decision for him, before he snapped out of it just in time as the breath fanning right against his lips snapped him wide awake.

“Sire- this is unbecoming of me- I am not worthy nor am I suited for someone of your standing-”

“You are much too insufferable, Lance.”

Those words interjecting the knight's words were Lancelot's only warning before the hands cradling his face pulled him close, and his lips were met with another pair, impatient and all too eager.

Even as they let themselves be closer to each other, even as Lancelot's mind and heart only longed for his king and his king only, a voice at the back of his mind insisted that this would be the last time. Surely this would be the last time.

He had terribly underestimated to what lengths he would go to for his king.

***

Chapter Text

Mutual Disrespect

***

Disrespect: “a lack of respect or courtesy.”

***

Something was noticeably different after Arthur's insistent lone expedition to find a new sword by himself.

It's been years since Lancelot was announced as a Knight of the Round Table, and the black hedgehog had grown familiar with the duties that came with being a knight.

After the expedition, the king had returned with a new sword and scabbard. The king had returned with Excalibur.

Lancelot had heard of Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, yet he never personally met the rumored kind and wise lady.

A few weeks had passed since the blue hedgehog was given Excalibur by Nimue, and it was also a few weeks where Lancelot felt… less needed.

He knew very well that his king had always been capable, and having him help him in royal duties was merely the blue hedgehog’s terribly disguised excuse to spend more time with the black hedgehog.

Yet after yet another day of not being summoned by his king, Lancelot felt himself grow unintentionally restless at the ‘silent treatment’.

Such a change of course did not go unnoticed by everyone in the palace, including the Knights of the Round Table - including Sir Gawain.

Gawain had the pleasure of getting to know the king longer than Lancelot had, so it surprised the black hedgehog when the red echidna pulled him to the side one day after a day spent training with the knights and guards, the two of them not wearing visors considering they had just freshened up.

“Did you and His Majesty quarrel? Is there a disagreement that I and the other Knights of the Round Table should be aware of?” Gawain inquired, the two of them hidden from most eyes in a corner of their training grounds as the red echidna seemed to have a private topic for conversation in mind.

Lancelot actually took the time to think of whether he had offended the blue hedgehog in any way, before he came to the same conclusion as he did the previous times.

“As far as I recalled, nothing was amiss.” Lancelot admitted truthfully, shaking his head from side to side to further emphasize ‘no’.

For the past years, Lancelot had remained a dutiful knight, and only ever remained even more loyal to his king. Despite the king's initial complaints, Arthur had well adjusted to Lancelot's determination to be ‘just a knight’ around the blue hedgehog, and had even found loopholes in the black hedgehog’s newest drive to get what he wanted.

Constantly reminding Lancelot that he was the black hedgehog's king, Arthur would often follow those unnecessary reminders by sweetly asking for things in return: a hand to hold, for his face to be caressed tenderly, a warmth to embrace and cherish, and, on occasions, for a pair of lips to kiss.

It was a back-handed way to get what he wanted, but these trivial treatments by the king had only made Lancelot even more impossibly enamored by the blue hedgehog.

Perhaps the black hedgehog had finally found what loyalty truly meant, and while some may deem it selfless and a little askew, it was Lancelot's definition of it.

At Lancelot's words, Gawain put on an unconvinced pursed of his lips, but made no effort to say anything in reply quickly, seeming to be deep in thought as his fingers rested on his chin thoughtfully.

“His Majesty had been reportedly quiet the past week ever since he got his hands on the Excalibur. The maids, butlers, and servants were getting concerned - even more so when they noticed His Majesty had not been demanding for your presence at least an hour every day.” Gawain thought aloud, seeming to want to know Lancelot's opinion.

The black hedgehog looked down on the ground for a brief moment before he did as Gawain wished.

“King Arthur is a wise and just ruler, and in these years he had witnessed situations of varying degrees of concern and dangers. Perhaps he had seen something in his journeys in search for a new sword that left an impact so strong, he had become more reserved.

Regardless of whether we feel comforted by his changed attitude or not, at the end of the day, our comfort matters the least, and it is Camelot's peace and sovereignty that matters most.

His Majesty will act according to what's best for Camelot. I trust in his judgment and decisions, and will be there if he ever needs my assistance.”

For some reason, Gawain pulled an almost appalled expression, and quickly rebutted.

“Lancelot, while I, too, wholeheartedly believe in the king’s chosen way of ruling, I am still concerned by the drastic change of attitude he has been displaying. I may not be as close to him as you are to him, but I could see the changes: in his smiles that had dimmed and a touch cold, and in the way he carries himself as if he no longer stands on the same ground as we all are.

You know him best, do you not? These changes must have been affecting you the most.

Would you at least acknowledge that these ‘changes’ our king is facing seem to beg for concern?”

As Gawain had said: Lancelot had indeed noticed.

It wasn't just in the smiles and the way the king has been recently carrying himself.

His gaze, usually warm and comforting, had been growing almost domineering and callous; as if the people he met were insignificant.

His steps, usually a skip in them and almost cheerful, had been more languid yet quick, often making it difficult for royal guards or servants to keep up with him; as if he was purposely toying with the royal guards and servants, always keeping a distance between himself and the others when he usually would start casual conversation to get to know the palace's staff better.

His voice, usually capable of both consoling and being authoritative, lacked its care and, lately, seemed to be clipped and purposely short and straight to the point; as if he couldn't be bothered to mingle with others any more than necessary.

It was just as Gawain had said: Lancelot had indeed noticed.

But Lancelot was simply a knight.

Deciding that it was best that they would not discuss the king’s affairs, Lancelot took a step back, away from Gawain and stepping out of the shadow cast in the corner they had been occupying, and gave the red echidna a reply.

“King Arthur knows what he is doing. It is not in my place to give him advice on his manners, just as it is not in your area of expertise, business, to talk about His Majesty behind His back.

I appreciate your concern and that you are looking out for our king, but please refrain from bringing this topic up again in conversations. It does not do good to our king’s otherwise pristine reputation.”

At the end of Lancelot’s words, the black hedgehog came to realize that the red echidna he was talking to was suddenly keeping his gaze on the ground, looking almost guilty after seeing whatever - or whoever - it was behind the black hedgehog.

Lancelot didn’t even get to turn to look before a hand almost roughly grabbed his muzzle, forcing him to tilt his head to find that their topic of the conversation was standing there, emerald green eyes sharp as they looked right into ruby red eyes, almost as if he could see into the knight’s soul.

“My Lancelot.” Arthur hummed, voice tender; a contrast to the hard and almost harsh grip he had on the black hedgehog’s muzzle.

‘My Lancelot’.

Ever since that expedition, Arthur… no longer called him ‘Lance’. At least not as often and not with the gentle tone he had used.

‘My Lancelot’.

“Sire.” Lancelot managed to say in acknowledgment - even if he could feel the familiar way his breath was taken away under the gaze of his king.

For a brief moment that felt like an eternity, all the king did was stare into Lancelot’s eyes, and Lancelot tried his best to ignore the anxiousness bubbling up deep within him, as if he was afraid his well-kept secrets would be found out from a mere gaze alone. (But Lancelot never kept secrets from his king.)

After leaving his expression unreadable in that fleeting eternity, eventually Arthur’s hold on the black hedgehog’s chin loosened, and a glimpse of the familiar warmth made itself known in emerald green eyes, its attention still solely on the king’s dearest knight.

“Your king.” Arthur corrected, chiding yet kind - at least at the moment.

Arthur’s thumb gently caressed Lancelot’s cheek, and the black hedgehog refrained from leaning into the touch, opting to force himself to pull his eyes away from enrapturing green ones and turn his attention to the ground.

“My king.” Lancelot corrected himself, heart skipping a beat when the hand on his face gave it a tender caress - like a reward.

Taking his hand off Lancelot, Arthur hummed, pleased, before he took a step closer so he was standing closer to Gawain, eyes sharp and disapproving as his gaze was directed at the red echidna who kept his gaze lowered throughout the whole ordeal.

Standing side by side like this, Lancelot came to realize how Arthur had been growing taller in the past week.

Being in Arthur’s shadow like this made Lancelot feel so… small. (The Arthur from the past would have noticed what was going on in the black hedgehog’s head; would have started going on a tangent on how the two of them will always be on the same ground. Regardless of their status.

The current Arthur made no move to reassure the black hedgehog of such trivial things.)

“If you have any qualms with my attitude, I suggest you not bother my Lancelot and go straight to me instead.” the king spoke, boredom and disdain in his voice as he looked right at his red knight’s eyes, having almost been at the same height when Gawain had always been the taller one.

An uncharacteristically angered scowl could be seen on Gawain’s lips, but the echidna maintained his composure and gritted his teeth, keeping his head lower out of respect - or perhaps to hide the barely concealed dissatisfaction in his eyes - before he replied to the king’s words.

“Your Majesty, I have already tried to talk to you about it.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. But every time I came to visit you, you always insisted that you have other more important matters to attend to.”

“I am a king, Sir Gawain. I will always have other and better things to do than listen to your nonsense.”

As a response, Gawain lifted his gaze, fire in his eyes burning bright, and Lancelot took that as his cue to step in before his red-quilled friend could risk his title or life.

“Your Majesty,” Lancelot spoke up, waiting for both the blue hedgehog and the red echidna to turn to look at him.

“Your king.” Arthur corrected, looking at the black hedgehog.

“My king, you need not worry anymore. Sir Gawain had only confided in me, and had not said a word that would affect your reputation negatively. We had agreed to no longer discuss this matter, with or without your presence around.” Lancelot quickly corrected himself and said what he needed to say to keep his echidna friend out of any possible punishment, glancing at the said echidna for a brief moment before turning to look at the king once again.

“...I did hear words along those lines from you, yes…” Arthur murmured distractedly, eyes kept trained on the black hedgehog while the said black hedgehog nodded, ignoring the questioning look Gawain was sending his way.

A few anxious beats later, Arthur broke the silence with a far-too-amused chuckle, and Lancelot’s heart kept on beating fast, nervous and unable to gauge or make head and tails of the king’s true feelings.

Waving a hand in dismissal in Gawain’s direction, Arthur ordered.

“Leave us alone at once, Gawain.”

For some reason, Lancelot felt dread.

What was wrong with him?

His heart fluttered at being able to be alone with the king he admired after not being able to share private moments with the king for so long - yet doubt started to rear its ugly head as Lancelot’s mind wondered whether his heart fluttered from excitement or fear.

Gawain seemed to have decided for Lancelot that it was ‘fear’, and made an effort to not mess with their ticking time bomb king by quickly obliging, lingering for a few moments at the entrance and hesitating before he turned to the hedgehogs to say one last thing.

“I apologize for doubting you, Your Majesty. I will keep my promise to Sir Lancelot and not discuss… irrelevant matters about you with anyone anymore.”

Thinking those words would somehow soothe whatever would happen to Lancelot, the knights shared one last glance before Gawain finally left, leaving the blue hedgehog and the black hedgehog alone in the training grounds.

Arthur did not waste any time by standing idly, seeming to be purposely dragging his feet as he made his way to the nearest bench, leaving Lancelot’s heart pumping blood as if it would be ripped out of its place from the black hedgehog’s chest in any second.

Only when the blue hedgehog had made himself comfortable on the bench and taken his fill of staring at his knight did he speak.

“My knight.”

“...yes, my king?”

“Kneel before me.”

The last time Lancelot had to kneel before Arthur was when he first swore his oath as a knight: to serve King Arthur of Camelot for as long as he was capable of. That was the first and last time he kneeled before the blue hedgehog, as Arthur disliked that others had to lower themselves and was of the belief that words were enough to prove one’s dedication and loyalty to someone.

The Arthur before him was no Arthur of the past.

Knees buckling instinctively, the black hedgehog kneeled on one knee in front of his king, and kept his head low, only daring to look at his king’s shoes.

A brief moment of silence later, the blue hedgehog spoke.

“My Lancelot.”

“Yes, my king.”

“It is to me that you swear your loyalty and protection to, yes?” the king asked, tone calm and casual. (Arthur’s voice had always been expressive - yet Lancelot found himself unable to understand the expression in it nor the incomprehensible expression that he knew was on his king’s face even without looking.)

Swallowing a lump down his throat, Lancelot answered.

“Yes, my ki-”

“Then don’t bother yourself with protecting others.”

Arthur’s voice was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on Lancelot.

The black hedgehog flinched despite himself, feeling something akin to shivering as if there really was a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on him.

Lancelot wanted to argue: to say that it was Arthur himself who had told him that it was important for the Knights of the Round Table to stick together and stick up for each other through thick and thin.

Yet that Arthur was the one of the past.

The argument died in his throat before he could even think of voicing it out loud, and all the black hedgehog could muster was a nod and a barely audible ‘yes, my king’, the rest of his voice stuck in his vocal chord and not daring to leave.

Unexpectedly, Lancelot felt a pair of lips pressed to his forehead, and the black hedgehog's stomach immediately turned into butterflies, all too easy to be comforted and to be turned into a mess.

“Wonderful, my knight. This is why you are my favorite.” Arthur praised, tentatively placing a finger under the black hedgehog’s chin and tilting the knight’s head so their gazes could meet.

“To reward your obedience, allow me to share with you something I have never shared with anyone.” Arthur continued talking, eyes intent on his knight’s face as if he wanted to take in every single change of facial expression that crossed Lancelot’s face.

Once he had found whatever it was that he was searching in Lancelot’s face, the king continued.

“Excalibur was not the only thing I found during my expedition.

I met Camelot’s Royal Wizard there: Merlina.

It was odd to find her wandering the woods alone, but knowing her, she was fully capable of defending herself if dangers were lurking.

If it was not for her, I would have never bumped into the Lady of the Lake.

My expedition was not such a ‘lone’ expedition after all - considering I spent half of it traversing through the forest with the talented wizard.”

…

Unprompted, all of a sudden Arthur burst into a fit of laughter, and Lancelot naturally recoiled from the sudden loud noise, trying his best to school his expression back to neutral despite knowing how it was too late, and that whatever expression that was on his face that had caused the king such great joy was already seen by the blue hedgehog.

When the king had gotten over his fit of laughter, he looked at Lancelot with a familiar look. A familiar look that Lancelot hadn’t realized how much he missed until it was right there in front of him once again.

“You are upset, My Lancelot,” Arthur stated matter-of-factly, a familiar charming and amused smile dancing on his lips as his attention was solely on the knight kneeling on one knee before him.

“I am not, Your Majesty.” Lancelot quickly denied, the warmth in his face not helping him be convincing enough. (Lancelot hadn’t realized how much he missed having the king’s attention in this particular way.)

“And yet it is that, and one other amusing emotion that I found on your face after I told you of my secret.” Arthur drawled, sitting hunched just so he could lean his face closer to Lancelot - closer to his knight and making his knight’s head spin.

Embarrassed, Lancelot unconsciously nibbled on his bottom lip, a habit he made in hopes that the pain would snap him out of whatever trance he was in so he could focus on what truly mattered, and realized a moment too late that he was not wearing his visor and that his king was so… close.

Mortified, Lancelot stopped nibbling his bottom lip, and wet it for a split second, realizing a moment later that such an action, too, was inappropriate to be doing when the king was sitting so close.

Perhaps Lancelot should consider heading straight for battle without backup so he could die defending his kingdom instead of from sheer humiliation.

“You are surreal, My Lancelot.”

The king’s words were said almost carelessly, distractedly - as if it was a thought meant just for himself, but he ended up voicing it aloud accidentally.

Lancelot’s heart didn’t get to have a moment of peace when the blue hedgehog seemed to have caught himself, not even bothering to cover up his slip-up as he continued speaking and picked up right from where he left off.

“Would you like to know what was the other expression that was on your face?”

The black hedgehog hesitantly nodded, if only to appease the king, and found himself regretting doing so when he found out the answer.

“Jealousy. It was jealousy.” Arthur stated matter-of-factly, keeping his tone unreadable along with his face as the black hedgehog ducked his head, embarrassed at himself for his mistake.

King Arthur was not his.

There’s a buzzing in Lancelot’s head, rendering him incapable of coming up with a decent enough reply to the king’s answer. Neither an apology nor a denial came to mind, and Lancelot found himself internally panicking at the lack of response he was giving the king.

Delayed replies would surely offend the king. Arthur had better things to do than to wait around for his disgraceful knight who harbored feelings for him despite knowing full well that it would never be. Lancelot should-

“I am surprised, at least. How greedy of you, Sir Lancelot. Almost… self-absorbed.

You are a mere knight. There is no possibility where I can be yours.”

Arthur’s words hurt more than Lancelot thought they would. The king was speaking the truth that Lancelot was made aware of since the first day their king-knight relationship was established.

Hearing those very words out loud from the one he loved was like putting the last nail in the coffin.

However, despite the heartache Lancelot was experiencing, Arthur’s reply made it obvious that it was an apology that he sought from the black hedgehog, but the knight didn’t get to do just that when the king suddenly spoke up once again.

“But I find those greed and self-absorbed traits of yours amusing.”

The king was not making any sense. (Lancelot distantly wondered if these were his Arthur’s true thoughts during those silent nights when the blue hedgehog would use loopholes to make the knight speak the truth and only the truth regarding his feelings.)

Almost abruptly, the blue hedgehog stood up from his bench, but Lancelot remained kneeling as he waited for his king's next words with bated breath, wondering whether it was his end or a new beginning that would be uttered by Arthur. King Arthur.

Lancelot remained kneeling facing the bench, whereas the king had taken a step away from the bench, hands neatly placed behind his back and interlaced together as he spared a moment to simply look around, unbothered by the still kneeling Lancelot on the ground.

Eventually, after yet another eternity passed, Arthur turned to look at Lancelot.

“I have always liked to keep those I find… amusing close, have I not?” the blue hedgehog wondered aloud, phrasing it as a question even if both hedgehogs who were present knew the answer to that question by heart.

Looking up at Arthur while being on his knee alone was capable of making Lancelot feel feverish. (Admiration or fear, he could not figure out - even until now.)

The Arthur of the past had always made an effort to show that they were on equal grounds, but at this very moment, the gap between his and Arthur's stance alone made it blatant how they were far on equal footing - literally and figuratively.

Just as the black hedgehog was looking up, Arthur was looking down, and an enchanting smile stretched on his lips, almost haunting as he declared, bold and proud.

“Since it is impossible for me to be yours, you will be mine.”

Lancelot was too stunned to react to his king swiftly kneeling on one knee in front of him, and was only ever to snap out of the trance he had found himself in when the blue hedgehog took out a small knife, taking Lancelot's hand in one hand as the other held the knife, still with that increasingly unreadable smile on his lips.

Lifting the knight's hand and pressing the tip of the knife onto Lancelot's gloved palm, the sharp tip of it pierced through the glove, and the black hedgehog barely reacted to the prick on his hand, more enraptured by the almost gentle way his king was handling his hand despite how his blood trickled, soaking his white glove red.

Arthur stopped before the blood leaking could be too much, almost as if the cut was caused by an accidental prick of a needle instead of a knife.

“You have pledged your loyalty and protection to me, but with this…” Arthur started, seeming to have gotten distracted midway as he stared at the small amount of blood that managed to stain his blade in wonder.

The king let go of Lancelot's hand in favor of wiping the blood of his blade clean, and with his gloved fingers stained, he slowly wiped it over his lips.

Tongue swiping over his bottom lip, Arthur shifted his gaze back to Lancelot, and only then did the black hedgehog become acutely aware of his unabashed staring, heat persistently working overtime and rushing to his face as he evened out his breathing that had hitched at the peculiar display by his king.

What was that about?

“My Lancelot. Look at me.”

It was an order, and Lancelot ignored the embarrassment and humiliation he was feeling in favor of obeying his king's order: meeting eyes with the king and breath hitching once again at the look the king was giving him.

“With this, you became mine and mine alone,” Arthur murmured, eyes on the stain of red on Lancelot's glove before he returned his gaze to the black hedgehog. (To the one who mattered.)

A moment was spent with the two of them just staring into each other's eyes, and while Lancelot gained nothing of comprehension and only the suffocation from drowning in eyes that seemed red, Arthur looked content - as if he had found what he was looking for - before standing up and uneventfully started walking away.

When the king got to the exit, he paused in his steps before turning to look at Lancelot, looking almost satisfied that Lancelot was still on one knee, reeling from whatever that had happened and still struggling to make sense of it.

“Do not fret, my knight. It will not scar your hand.

But it had scarred your memory.”

No further elaboration, the king left, his steps measured yet languid as they had been for the past week. However, Lancelot noticed a slight skip on those footsteps; as if he was in a very good mood.

Lancelot truly had no understanding of the new Arthur.

One would watch the scene that had unfolded and point out that Arthur had not respected Lancelot as a person, boldly proclaiming that the black hedgehog was his as if the knight was a mere item.

Had such a thing happened, Lancelot would have not hesitated to take his king's side. After all, he had also disrespected the boundaries to be abided by knights in regards to the heart towards the one they served.

It was an eye for an eye.

(Lancelot had always been unapologetically Arthur's.)

***

Chapter Text

No Desire for Sharing

***

Sharing: “to have a portion of (something) with another or others.”

***

There had been a rise of people interested in Lancelot’s affairs lately.

Lancelot was not sure why, but he had an inkling that a factor would be because he seemed to be ‘available’ and had more time in his hands considering Arthur still kept up with his usual and new attitude.

Ever since the incident at the training grounds, Lancelot had been anticipating the king to summon him, the itch to serve the king in any way having been nagging him at the back of his mind relentlessly.

Such an insistent thought was unhelpful and only distracted him from carrying out his knightly duties. So he had to improvise by sending himself out on a patrol - not under the king's order.

Considering how a part of the black hedgehog’s oath was to aid the king in keeping peace in Camelot, Lancelot was sure that he was not stepping out of line when he ventured into an unusual task himself voluntarily. (There's a small part of him that wondered if he was making a mistake by not informing the blue hedgehog. A small part of him wondered what his king would do when he found out his ‘dearest’ knight was out of reach for a day.)

His patrol would be for a whole day, partnered with Sir Percival - whose duties had always involved the people, her aloof yet reassuring presence often working wonders for both difficult citizens and the well-meaning ones.

Patrolling as a Knight of the Round Table would usually require them to not stay in one place for too long to avoid ‘admirers’ from cornering them and making their duty even more difficult by swarming them.

As someone so dependable and revered, Percival had gotten herself quite the sizable group of ‘fans’, and Lancelot found himself not regretting his decision to step out of the norm as he was able to witness the gentle way Percival interacted with children and the elegant way the cat interacted with her older admirers.

Lancelot had always known his cat friend was well-suited in communicating with the people - at least when it came to her duties as a knight - but seeing her in the zone made the black hedgehog realize how words would not be able to grasp just how fitting this duty was for the cat.

It was almost as if she was a princess herself. Perhaps in a past life?

The sound of footsteps nearing pulled Lancelot out of his thoughts, the black hedgehog turned to the source of the sound to find that the cat had finished talking with some of her friends she had bumped into while they were on patrol.

“The next time we bump into someone I know, you should tag along so I can properly introduce you to other people who are not the palace's staff,” Percival said upon reaching her fellow knight, a serene smile on her lips as her mood seemed to have been lifted from the short conversation she shared with her friends alone.

The black hedgehog kindly shook his head from side to side, politely rejecting his friend's offer.

“I do not do well with idle chatters, Sir Percival. There is a reason why I am the Knight of the Round Table who is least dispatched to deal with the town folks, after all.” Lancelot added, recalling the many times he had seen his fellow knights being sent to the heart of the city to deal with wanted criminals spotted and whatnot.

The cat pulled a half-hearted amused look, the other half an expression Lancelot found himself struggling to figure out.

“With all due respect, Lancelot, the true reason as to why you are often kept in the palace is because the king is much too attached to you to have you gone for too long. Some have been whispering that His Majesty had severe attachment issues, but I see that those words were mere rumors, seeing that you are here with me and he let it be.” Percival replied, her words causing Lancelot to go the slightest bit stiff as he went over what his friend had said.

“His Majesty knew of my request for patrol in the city?” Lancelot inquired, heartbeat loud in his ears while the purple knight remained oblivious to the confusing mix of feelings her friend was experiencing.

“That is a given, Lancelot. His Majesty had been doing everything himself these days - which included assigning duties to the Knights of the Round Table.

His Majesty has always been a driven king, but it seems that he will continue to exceed the people's expectations as his dedication to keeping the tranquility of Camelot keeps on growing. It is a shame that the increase in workload has caused His Majesty to lock himself in the palace, no longer occasionally coming down to see the citizens himself, but that is merely the way the world works: everything has its cost.” Percival answered, a sort of awe in her voice as she spoke highly of their king.

Arthur had known of his request, but let him do as he pleased and did not say a word about it.

The black hedgehog was unsure of what to make of this.

Lancelot wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had grown silent, but apparently it was long enough for him to feel Percival placing a mildly worried hand on the black hedgehog’s shoulder.

“Lancelot. Are you feeling well? You look awfully pale.” the cat asked, concerned.

Before Lancelot could answer, someone called out Percival's name, prompting both hedgehogs to turn and look at the one who had called for the purple cat's attention and was currently running towards them.

The black hedgehog remained beside Percival when the cat gave him a look to stay before Lancelot could flee.

It didn't help that Lancelot was unable to recognize the cat's approaching friend. Someone traveling from afar, perhaps.

The one approaching them was a bunny, shorter than Lancelot and Percival. His fur was a light blue, but his muzzle and front torso were white; a nice contrast to the red ribbon neatly worn on his neck.

Ears flopped, the rabbit didn't look all that tired even after he had run to catch up to the knights.

Percival gave the rabbit a small smile and a nod before turning to Lancelot once again and gesturing over the rabbit - whose eyes were already trained on the black hedgehog the moment the cat had taken her eyes off him.

“This is Feels, the blacksmith's best friend. He's not around often because his love for adventure tends to overpower his love for people - which in itself was already very strong.

We met after I had bumped into him far too many times to count after I kept on being sent to guard Camelot's borders. We had our differences at first, as I had thought he was up to no good and was always crossing borders almost every two days.

We were fortunate that we ended up bumping into each other at the blacksmith's. All misunderstandings were cleared, and we became good friends.

He reminds me a lot of King Arthur, so his company has always been pleasant to have around. Perhaps you would find his company enjoyable, too.” Percival introduced the rabbit, looking pleased with herself.

Regarding the rabbit with a short nod, the said rabbit didn’t look all too affected by Lancelot’s awkwardness, and merely looked excited.

“Sir Lancelot! I know who you are, of course! The Knights of the Round Table are very well known far and wide - it only made sense that I know you and your amazing feats!” The rabbit exclaimed, his ecstatic demeanor slowly able to make the black hedgehog feel less tense.

Thankfully, Feels continued talking without letting a beat of silence pass. (Lancelot had no clue how to respond to the rabbit’s words.)

“Also, Sir Percival over here is just too generous. I’m nothing like King Arthur. His Majesty is amazing, and I am not really anyone compared to him.

I heard that you come from a non-royal family - which is amazing because usually the knights of Camelot were picked and chosen from nobles.

If I didn’t like running around so much, I would have loved to try my hand at being a knight in Camelot. Maybe then I could study under you and have my name known throughout Camelot, too. Would really make my travels easier without identification papers and whatnot.”

Feels’ words were all too kind and too generous, and faced with such enthusiasm after so long, Lancelot found himself feeling a bit out of it, flattered yet also embarrassed.

Thankful for his visor, Lancelot was.

“That’s… you are too kind, Feels. I am only carrying out my duties.” Lancelot eventually said, bashful and hoping that Percival would take over the rabbit’s attention so the black hedgehog wouldn’t feel so scrutinized under the said rabbit’s gaze.

Unfortunately, Feels seemed to have difficulty in seeing Lancelot’s struggles; because he was merely making it harder for Lancelot to not flee when he kept on talking.

(It was odd. Lancelot had always been someone who usually did not shy away from his achievements and instead would proudly accept praises. Perhaps Arthur was not the only one who changed.)

“Just ‘carrying your duties’ or not, I heard that you’re often dispatched with His Majesty whenever you have duties outside of the palace’s grounds. Is it true the two of you have slain a dragon together before?! If only I was there to see…

His Majesty and you must be really close, aren’t you?”

Lancelot was meant to reaffirm that, indeed, in the past, Arthur and he had once slain a dragon with just the two of them. It was a childish challenge Arthur made up on the spot: to see at whose blade the dragon would fall.

However, Feels’ question threw Lancelot off his train of thought, and the black hedgehog ended up pondering over the answer to the question instead.

The black hedgehog didn't get to give his reply when there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to jolt and turn around to find that it was someone whose face was obscured by a cloak.

It didn't take Lancelot a second longer to know the person in the cloak was no other than his king.

(But why the disguise?)

“...carrying out your duties, knights?” the blue hedgehog asked, tone almost foreboding and causing both Percival and Feels to feel skeptical of the newcomer whose face was purposely hidden underneath the hood of his cloak.

For a brief moment, Percival made eye contact with Lancelot, and only when the black hedgehog discreetly nodded to show that there was nothing to be concerned about did the cat retract her hand away from the hilt of her sword.

“... yes, we are. Patrolling as we are ordered to by His Majesty.” Percival answered, her eyes trained solely on the cloaked figure who still had not identified himself.

An offended and amused scoff, audible to Lancelot only because he was the closest to the cloaked figure, could be heard before the disguised king said, uncaring of keeping his tone as a king subtle despite being in disguise.

“Patrolling, you say? I don't recall patrolling needing one to talk about mundane and irrelevant things with citizens.”

Despite how those words were directed at Percival to reply to her words, Lancelot's own heart stuttered when he knew for a fact that the statement was directed at him, too.

Unlike Lancelot, Percival was unaware of the cloaked figure's true identity, and took offense at who-she-thought citizen's ‘criticism’, taking a step forward so she was closer to her king to make a point.

“Thank you for your consideration, sir. But we knights are taught and trained on what it means to patrol. King Arthur himself used to come down here himself to check up on everyone during patrols - we are merely following His Majesty's footsteps that is to know his subjects to ensure the peace of Camelot.” Percival proclaimed, speaking highly of King Arthur to King Arthur.

Speaking highly of King Arthur of the past to King Arthur of the present.

The cloaked figure scoffed, this time audible to both Lancelot and Percival, as his hand that was on the black hedgehog’s shoulder moved to casually rest itself on the night's lower back, sending shivers down the night's spine.

“You mentioned ‘used to’, Sir Percival. Perhaps, instead of idolizing the past, you should be aware of your king's decision to no longer come down here to ‘get to know his subjects’.

Why did the king no longer come down here? Was he so busy he couldn't make time to see his beloved subjects, or perhaps he simply had grown tired of how pathetic Camelot truly is?” the cloaked figure boldly said out loud, luckily not too loud for anyone except Lancelot, Percival, and Feels to be able to hear.

Justifiably fuming in her king's stead, Percival took out her sword, and threateningly aimed the tip of it at the cloaked figure's neck with a swift swipe, too angered to notice how peculiar it was that a mere citizen was so unfazed with a sword pointed at their throat.

“Take back those words - before I make you regret it.” Percival threatened, her sudden show of aggression causing eyes to turn to look at the commotion and causing hushed gasps and whispers to break among the nearby crowds and passersby.

This was dangerous.

If Arthur was to suddenly take off his cloak, the least heavy punishment that would be declared on Percival would be to be banished from Camelot. A knight pointing her sword at her king would never be excused no matter the reason behind it.

Lancelot had to defuse the situation before it escalated - before Arthur became even more incomprehensible.

The circumstance only got worse when Feels spoke up, eyes narrowed at the king.

“The insult to King Arthur that you have made will not go unpunished, and before what is coming for you will become even more severe, I suggest you take your hand off Sir Lancelot.

King Arthur will have your head when he finds out your blatant disrespect for his knight.”

Despite the threats made, Arthur remained unfazed, but Lancelot noticed the moment the king's sour mood lessened.

“The king will have my head just because I am in close contact with Sir Lancelot? Don't you think that is a bit too excessive for someone who's supposed to be just His Majesty's knight? Or perhaps…

Are you trying to say that Sir Lancelot is King Arthur's, rabbit? That would have explained why His Majesty always kept him so close; so afraid of anyone taking Sir Lancelot away from him because he knew too well of his knight's irresistible charm.

What does that say about your king? A controlling and inconsiderate ruler who uses his power for his own gains?” the cloaked figure continued to speak, every word leaving his lips causing the sword pointed at his neck to shake even more, the purple knight barely able to resist the urge to stab her sword forward.

Despite his taunting words, the king retracted his hand away from Lancelot's lower back, but his words themselves had already done enough damage to Percival's patience.

Taking his stance in front of the king and swiftly disarming Percival with his own sword was muscle memory from years of training, the sound of swords flashing briefly sharp in the air as Percival's sword was in the air for a moment before it fell to the ground, causing yet another series of collective gasps.

Lancelot knew Percival's swipe was merely to cut the cloak, not to harm as they were never taught to harm a citizen in public, but he was not really left with much of a choice considering how the cloak had to stay on.

Avoiding Percival's confused and shocked gaze locked onto him was futile.

When their gazes met, there seemed to be millions of questions and words said just from the cat's gaze alone.

‘I was merely planning to cut his cloak to see his face.’

‘Harming him has not crossed my mind. I never miss.’

‘He had spoken ill of our king. Why did you not let me reveal his identity?’

‘Why does it feel like you want me to be perceived as attempting to attack a citizen?’

Betrayed was palpable in her eyes, but Lancelot turned a blind eye to it and remained focused. (Had he not turned a blind eye, he would have strayed from his plan.)

“That is enough, Sir Percival. You are exhausted, so I will overlook your mistake and you shall not be punished for attempting to harm an innocent citizen. Return to the palace at once.” Lancelot spoke with finality, ignoring Feels’ shocked and disbelieving expression and focusing on his fellow knight’s expression.

Percival looked… saddened.

There were a few moments where varying expressions had crossed her face, but in the end, she only looked saddened.

When all Percival did was bow, pick up her sword, and start walking away wordlessly, guilt started eating up Lancelot's heart for humiliating his friend in public, and all he could do to make himself feel better was stop her with a call of a name before he declared.

“I will bring him to see the king myself, and His Majesty shall decide what punishment is befitting of his crimes, Sir Percival. Fret not; justice will prevail.

…rest well.”

A relieved look was on Percival's face for a fleeting moment before she nodded and finally left.

The guilt was still present in his heart, but it eased him immensely that he had said those last words to the cat - even if those words were a lie.

The crowds and passersby were no longer gathered, fortunately having dispersed the moment Percival walked away.

However, when Lancelot turned to face his king and Feels, his blood ran cold to find that he was the only one left standing there.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a cloaked figure entering a dark alley nestled between two buildings, and he quickly rushed to the alley, heartbeat frantic and blood rushing loudly in his heart out of anxiousness. Out of fear. (Of what?)

By the time Lancelot had gotten to the end of the alley, it was a dead end, yet there were no signs of Arthur nor Feels - that was until the black hedgehog was suddenly pushed from behind, the pressure remaining on his back as a hand splayed on it, pressing his face-covered visor to the wall uncomfortably.

Just the sheer strength and the way the one who attacked him towered over him alone were enough for him to figure out that it was his king.

“I have always wondered why… I always have the urge to keep you inside the palace. To keep you locked up.” Arthur murmured, right into the knight's ear, voice a rasp as if he had a sore throat.

The sound of familiar clicking could be heard before the king managed to easily take off Lancelot's visor, and the hand on his back moved to the quills on the back of his head, pulling hard and causing the knight to wince and grunt, the metal visor falling onto the ground and making a loud clanging noise before his face was pressed right back into the uneven wall, scratching his muzzle and face in the process.

“I have figured it out now. The reason for that unexplainable and unnecessary adamant need of mine to keep you close.”

Abruptly, Lancelot was turned around before he was pressed right back onto the wall, and a hand closed around his throat and lightly squeezed, choking the black hedgehog who hadn't expected such a gesture as his eyes teared up, feet dangling as the blue hedgehog so easily managed to raise him off the ground.

Even though Lancelot was looking down on Arthur like this, he had never felt more smaller and cornered.

Emerald green eyes glinted with almost childlike happiness, looking right into Lancelot's ruby red eyes as the black hedgehog was incapable of holding his tears from streaming down his face, leaving a track of wetness on the knight’s muzzle.

The tears wet Arthur's gloves, but the blue hedgehog paid it no mind as he kept on looking at Lancelot almost adoringly.

“You are bewitching, my Lancelot. Like a siren's voice, like an enchanting spell meant to trap anyone you crossed paths with.

That is very ‘dangerous’, dearest knight.

I have to keep you close. I have to keep dangers and threats close. Away from my subjects.

After all, I am a just and considerate king, am I not?”

The hand around his neck squeezed a tad bit harder, and Lancelot desperately wrapped his hands around his king's wrist that was around his neck, yet his body could not do anything but rest those hands there rather than try to take the hand holding him hostage off.

His lungs screamed for air, yet his body remained mostly pliant, minus the occasional light kick by his legs that his subconsciousness somehow still managed to avoid kicking the king.

Was it his heart or his brain that had control over his body?

(Is this body even his?)

When black dots started dotting Lancelot's vision, he was prepared to lose consciousness when the pressure around his neck was suddenly gone, and all he could do was cough and take in lungfuls of air, legs wobbly as he fell right into his king's awaiting arms that wrapped around him almost protectively before they rubbed patterns on the knight's back; an attempt to comfort.

Eventually, when Lancelot had enough air in his lungs and tears were no longer streaming down his face, his ears finally registered the shushing hums from the king, as if he was comforting a crying baby unable to succumb to sleep.

“There, there. It is all going to be fine.” the king murmured, voice still a rasp and sounding hoarse as he kept his embrace on the knight tight.

Lancelot wasn't sure how much time had passed as he let himself be embraced by his king, head the most silent it had been since forever as the black hedgehog’s attention remained on the patterns his king was drawing on his back.

“Despite having told you to not protect others and only protect me, you continue to defy my orders and save Percival moments ago.

Tell me, my Lancelot: do you like testing my patience to see where my limit lies?” Arthur broke the silence in the end, not ceasing his hand's movements as he asked his knight a question.

“...it was you the one I protected, my king.” Lancelot answered, cringing at his own hoarse voice as his heart skipped a beat at the fond chuckle from his king's lips, seeming to have found his knight's hoarse voice ‘endearing’.

“Enlighten me.” the king went along with Lancelot's answer, prompting the black hedgehog to further elucidate.

“I deduced that you are hiding your identity for a reason, and had I not interfered, your disguise would have been blown if Sir Percival were to cut your cloak and reveal your identity.”

Lancelot's answer pulled a hum as a response from his king, and the black hedgehog waited with bated breath for his king's verdict. (His answer had been the truth, however, Arthur's reason was also the truth. Lancelot could only hope his king would show him mercy.)

A press of lips to his temple immediately calmed Lancelot's racing heart, as that was an equivalent declaration of the king accepting and acknowledging his words or actions.

“I shall believe your words, then. In return for your obedience, let me share with you the reason why I had to put on a disguise.” Arthur said, finally retracting his arms away as Lancelot took that as his cue to lean away.

All movements by the black hedgehog ceased, however, when his king took off the hood of his cloak, revealing blood-red eyes instead of emerald-green ones.

“I've been practicing magic, Lance.”

***

Chapter Text

Being Happier Around Other People

***

Happy: “feeling or showing pleasure or contentment.”

***

The news that Lancelot was back to his routine of being by the king’s side 24/7 was quick to spread once the palace’s staff noticed it.

After Arthur had told Lance that he had started practicing magic, the blue hedgehog provided no further explanation, wiping away the dried tears on the black hedgehog’s muzzle tenderly before he offered a hand for the knight to accept so they could stand.

“My king. Have you seen the rabbit who went by the name Feels?”

When Arthur only smiled, feigning cluelessness as he asked the black hedgehog ‘what rabbit are you talking about?’, Lancelot dropped the topic in an instant, believing that perhaps it was best to not press, and that perhaps the rabbit had run away as soon as he had the chance to before he got tangled up in the mess even further. (Lancelot hoped the rabbit was doing okay.)

Aside from the extra work Arthur had been taking, another reason why he had been locking himself in his room for hours and days on end was because he was practicing magic. The blue hedgehog explained that the reason he was in the city the other day was because he was just returning to the palace after practicing magic with Merlina somewhere secluded, far from the public’s eyes.

Whenever the king wielded magic, if done for a long duration and excessively, emerald green eyes would turn bloody red, and every time Lancelot saw red instead of green, he couldn’t help but be worried.

“Sire. You should not overexert yourself.” Lancelot advised when the blue hedgehog started coughing after casting a particularly strong spell, leaving the king heaving as he hunched on the floor, clutching onto his chest.

Something that Lancelot came to notice was also how the magic affected his king.

While excessive usage of magic greatly tired the blue hedgehog, it was also whenever he had over exerted himself did the Arthur of the past could be seen in his eyes - in the tired yet fond smile Arthur had on his lips at the moment as he chuckled at Lancelot's advice.

“I am not, Lancelot. I am perfectly capable of going at it a couple more times.” Arthur quipped, not necessarily supporting his own statement when he accepted his knight's offered hand to help him get off the floor.

Lancelot missed this side of Arthur, yet he knew to be able to see his loved one like so would mean leaving the blue hedgehog overworking himself.

The black hedgehog wouldn't dare let that happen.

Wrapping one of Arthur's arms around his shoulders, Lancelot helped the king get to his bed, and the blue hedgehog obediently obliged, slowly and comfortably sitting himself on the edge of his bed once he got to it.

Having brought the king to his bed, Lancelot bowed and made to leave to continue the several tasks Arthur had given him, but a hand stopping himself by his wrist stopped him from being able to take another step away.

“Why the haste to leave, Lance?” Arthur inquired, tone almost hopeful as he gave the black hedgehog’s wrist a gentle squeeze, voice beckoning for the knight to stay.

The black hedgehog wondered for a brief moment if there was magic out there that would allow time to not pass; to stop so he could properly cherish the time with the Arthur he missed dearly.

Instead of giving in to the urge of embracing his king, Lancelot turned to look at the blue hedgehog, not bothering to shake off the hold on his wrist, before he answered the question given to him.

“...I simply have the matters you assigned to me to attend to. It is no excuse for me to linger and not use the time to finish the matters at hand. It is you who need the rest, not me.”

The king's ears dropped at the knight's words almost pitifully.

“But I feel as if it has been far too long since we last properly talked. Would you mind sparing some time for your king, Lance?” Arthur coaxed, his voice as gentle and playful as it was in the past, yet his red eyes kept on reminding Lancelot that that part of the blue hedgehog he had fallen in love with was long gone.

“You jest, Your Majesty. We spent the whole day together.” Lancelot replied, heartbeat stuttering when Arthur adjusted his hold on the black hedgehog so he was holding the black hedgehog’s hands in his own.

Arthur looked all over Lancelot's hands, as if marveling, and rubbed his fingers over the worn-out gloves regretfully.

“Your gloves are old, Lance. Have I not bought you new gloves like I always do?” Arthur asked, looking baffled at himself.

It struck Lancelot as odd that Arthur was asking all these questions - as if he hadn't been there with the black hedgehog this entire time - but the knight chose to not address it in fear of further exhausting the king.

“I will keep in mind to buy new gloves if that is what you believe must be done.” Lancelot chose to say, reluctant to be the one to pull his hands away and deciding to not make any move in the end.

The king scowled at his knight's words, tutted, before one of his hands went around the knight in front of him and effortlessly pulled the black hedgehog into his lap, the king's strength having noticeably improved along with his other physical traits.

(Lancelot hadn't realized how taller and almost… menacing his king had become.)

“Have you forgotten that it is a favorite pastime of mine to buy you your gloves? To dote on you? Gloves are the only gifts you would accept aside from the occasional flowers that I have to pluck myself and not use money to get. It's the only way you would accept something from me aside from obeying orders.” Arthur chided, chuckling fondly as he rested his hand on Lancelot's back while his other hand cradled a side of the black hedgehog’s face, looking almost longingly into Lancelot’s eyes.

All the while, the knight's breath stuttered, not believing that such fondness from the king that he used to be showered in suddenly felt so foreign to him.

The hand on his face caressed his cheek, and Lancelot glanced at the movement before he returned the king's gaze.

“You looked… smaller. Feels smaller. And so… So concerning… lifeless. Exhausted.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Lancelot murmured back, slacking off in his king’s hold as magic seemed to have his whole body gone lax, allowing himself to lean against the blue hedgehog who didn’t seem to mind the extra weight.

Whether it was figurative magic or actual magic, Lancelot couldn’t bother himself to know - not when his eyelids felt so heavy.

“Did I overwork you, then?”

“Not at all, Your Majesty.”

“Arthur.” The king corrected his knight, not missing a beat as if nothing had changed since the last time Lancelot addressed the blue hedgehog by his name.

Lancelot’s breath hitched, a sense of disorientation and unplaced fear of something bubbling up and swirling in his chest, and he tried to push away all thoughts he tended to avoid whenever he was in the king’s presence. (Was he often kept around in the palace really because the king wanted him for himself even before the change?)

“Arthur.” Lancelot parroted, voice slower and more hesitant, but seemed to greatly pleased the blue hedgehog nonetheless.

“Wonderful.” Arthur praised, red eyes slowly losing their color and returning to their usual shade of green.

Knowing that it was best he created some distance before Arthur ‘snapped out of it’, Lancelot forced himself to make an attempt to move away, but he didn’t get to do so when suddenly he was pulled forward, and a pair of lips pressed against his.

It was brief. It was a kiss.

It felt like both a dream and a nightmare.

Arthur seemed to fully intend to not let even a thought cross the black hedgehog’s mind as he switched their positions, pushing the black hedgehog down on the bed and wielding magic once again, eyes no longer a shade of red and once again in green.

Trapped between the soft mattress of his king’s bed and the king himself, Lancelot was too stunned to react properly as he looked up at the blue hedgehog above him.

There was an almost maniacal glint of something in those green eyes, but Lancelot couldn’t find the name for it with the thick layers of amusement and triumph above the unknown glint.

“You are too easy, my Lancelot.”

He’s back.

The knight didn’t regard the king’s words with a reply, and instead avoided the blue hedgehog’s gaze, looking down at himself and lowering his gaze as he deemed it disrespectful to make eye contact with his king in such a position.

However, not a moment passed before there was a burnt feeling on his muzzle, and in the next second his face was tilted upward so he could see his king whose hand was crackling with black and dark purple energy, using his magic to tilt his knight’s face as he liked.

“Your heart is too… soft. The only reassurance I have to think about is knowing fully well that it is only with me that you display such vulnerability.

It’s a shame; I have always liked the fire in your eyes whenever your arrogance and more… competitive sides rear their heads. Then again…”

The king trailed off, staring into Lancelot’s eyes meaningfully before he smiled, sweet and genuine.

“Submission is a good look on you, too. Just for your king.” Arthur said, looking right into Lancelot’s eyes as he said those words before he unceremoniously pulled himself away, leaving the black hedgehog disoriented and almost dizzy.

Standing up and towards the window, Arthur kept his hands behind his back as he looked out of the window, a moment of silence passing as Lancelot tried to quickly regain his bearing. When he thought he had managed to do so, he made an attempt to stand, except the moment he lifted himself off his bed, he realized that he couldn't feel his legs, and instantly dropped to his knees, barely able to brace himself with his hands on the floor.

There was an incessant pounding in his head, and he felt out of breath despite having not done anything extraneous in the past minute.

There went his answer to whether it was figurative or actual magic he was feeling.

“My Lancelot.”

At the call of his name, Lancelot struggled to adjust himself to kneel on one knee, hoping the show of respect to the king would mean the blue hedgehog would not ask him to stand.

Despite having called the black hedgehog’s name, Arthur made no move to move, eyes still trained on what was outside with his back facing the knight kneeling on the floor.

When Lancelot realized that perhaps his king was waiting for a verbal reply, he opened his mouth to speak only to immediately shut it when a surge of energy could be felt entering him, making him stand as it made him walk to the blue hedgehog’s side.

By the time the black hedgehog was standing beside his king, the magic coursing in his body abruptly left, leaving the knight with no choice but to desperately grab on the windowsill to stabilize himself, knees wobbling and breathing still ragged.

From the corners of his eyes, Lancelot watched the blue hedgehog smile at his struggles: entertained.

Only when Lancelot was no longer trembling too much did Arthur speak.

“I have kept you here with me for quite a long while, have I not? Do you miss your fellow knights?”

Paying attention to what Arthur was looking at, Lancelot realized that the rest of the Knights of the Round Table were there, training royal guards diligently and dedicatedly.

“...I am carrying out my duties just as they are carrying theirs. There is no need for the sentiment you mentioned… my king.” Lancelot answered, observing his fellow knights in action.

For a brief moment, Galahad coincidentally turned to look at the window Arthur and Lancelot were looking out of, and the black hedgehog stiffened when the silver hedgehog smiled and waved, seeming to only notice the knight's presence as the king's figure was obstructed by the window's curtain conveniently.

The other knights were quick to notice Galahad's sudden enthusiasm, and approached the silver hedgehog before they followed his line of sight, ending up smiling and waving at the window, too.

Lancelot was not exactly sure why, but he felt… embarrassed. Shy.

An exhale of air against his ear caused Lancelot to turn to look to his side, and goosebumps ran down his skin as he felt his king's arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up better than his uncooperative arms could.

“Do not be shy, my Lancelot. Return their waves.” Arthur murmured, a calculating look in his eyes despite the persuasive voice.

Hesitantly, Lancelot turned back to the window and waved, and all the knights waved one last time in return before Percival seemed to be saying something, the end of her words resulting in the knights dispersing to get back to training.

With no eyes on them, Arthur grabbed the curtain and covered the window, shrouding the chamber they were in in darkness save for the dimmed candles flickering and providing light.

The hand on Lancelot's waist remained, and the King's other free hand rested on the windowsill as he turned so his whole body properly faced his knight's.

“What do you make of Sir Galahad and Sir Lamorak?” the king asked out of the blue, catching the black hedgehog off guard.

A moment or two were spent pondering over the question before Lancelot quickly answered.

“Both of them are remarkable knights. Camelot's safety and peace are further solidified with their presence and commitment.”

“And if compared to Sir Percival and Sir Gawain?”

“...Sir Percival and Sir Gawain are indeed remarkable knights, too. Generally speaking, I would say they are somewhat better than Sir Galahad and Sir Lamorak as they are more well-rounded.”

Arthur rarely talked about anyone else, so his questions regarding the Knights of the Round Table made Lancelot the slightest bit anxious.

The blue hedgehog hummed, his fingers on Lancelot's waist rubbing slow patterns as if deliberately wanting the black hedgehog to feel self-conscious.

“I couldn't agree more, Sir Lancelot.” the king settled to say in the end.

When the conversation stopped there, Lancelot couldn't shake off the feeling that his king must have had something in mind when he asked those questions. As much as the knight tried to stop himself from asking, knowing full well that there were various ways his question would cause Arthur to react both negatively and positively, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out in the end.

“Is there something on your mind that I could be of service to, my king?”

He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so demanding, but when the words left his lips, there was no going back, and all Lancelot was able to do was keep his head up and put as much seriousness and devotion as he could in his eyes, hoping to show that he truly would do anything if his king would just say the word.

There was a huge part of Lancelot that was convinced he would be choked and dropped, but, for some reason, his king was not reacting in such a way this time around, and instead had an intrigued look on his face as he stared at the knight before him.

The movements of the fingers on Lancelot's waist ceased, but the hold turned tighter, almost restless in a way the knight could not put into words.

“Always so eager to be useful. Always so lovely.” Arthur sighed admirably, murmuring his last words before he suddenly placed both of his hands on his knight's waist, effortlessly lifting the black hedgehog with no warning before the knight was placed on a nearby table, making Lancelot sit on it.

The king nudged his knight's legs apart, and comfortably stood between them before he cupped Lancelot's face in his hands, his stature somehow still capable of towering over the black hedgehog even if the table the knight was sitting on was already a little higher than the king's waist.

In the old days, Arthur and Lancelot often would compete over who was taller despite being almost as tall as each other. Oftentimes Lancelot's mood would immediately dampened when he was told that the blue hedgehog was the slightest bit taller than him.

However, such thoughts were no longer applicable to Lancelot: the current Lancelot whose heart would stir and body would grow warm whenever Arthur as much as reminded the black hedgehog of their height difference by doing stuff like this.

Kissing Arthur had not been a rare occurrence for a long time - even before.

Lately, the king would not even ask for permission to kiss the knight; like in the current moment when he wordlessly leaned in and sealed their lips together.

Truthfully, Lancelot was never bothered by it.

(“With this, you became mine and mine alone.”)

Arthur kissed like he had been deprived of water for years, and Lancelot was the first drink he found to soothe his parched throat. He kissed like a man starved, and the black hedgehog let his king do as he pleased, responding in kind but resolutely keeping his hands to himself, afraid of crossing a line that he was not allowed to.

(Many lines were already crossed by Lancelot. The only thing left was to find which line would cost him his life.)

When the feeling of suffocation started to sink in, when tears pricked at his eyes, when he started to feel lightheaded, and when he was no longer capable of stopping himself from drooling pathetically and shamefully, a pitiful and almost desperate sound similar to a whine could be heard from the back of his throat.

Arthur retreated only after Lancelot had repeated the embarrassing noise for another time.

Ashamed as Lancelot didn't need a mirror to know that he had looked mussed up, drooling the tiniest bit and having had some tears dropped, the knight ducked his head in shame, and was about to wipe the stains on his face with his gloves when his king stopped him from doing so.

Keeping eye contact, Arthur rubbed his thumb over the knight's knuckles. (The king seemed to have murmured something along the lines of ‘need to buy you a new pair of gloves’ right to the knight's knuckles, but the words were too muffled and too quiet for Lancelot to be sure of whether he had heard correctly or not.)

“I do have something in mind, my Lancelot,” Arthur murmured, pressing his lips to the knight's knuckles briefly before he dropped the black hedgehog’s hand in favor of reaching up to Lancelot's face and resting it on the side of the knight's face.

Instead of wiping away the tears, the king distractedly smeared the tears into Lancelot's muzzle, before he continued talking.

“It seems that someone is out for my blood. Someone from inside the palace.”

Those words alone were enough to give clarity to Lancelot's mind, the knight quickly snapping out of his daze as he stumbled to get off the table, stumbling a few more times to stand as the king shushed him, having retracted his hands to allow the knight to move around.

“Who is it? I shall deal with them accordingly.” Lancelot declared, confident in succeeding despite not knowing who Arthur was talking about. (He will succeed. He had to - because he is Arthur's most trustworthy knight.)

The blue hedgehog, surprised at his knight's sudden outburst, smiled in amusement at the knight's words, scoffing soon after still with amusement lacing it as he gave his knight a once over.

“I know you will be more than capable of dealing with them, my Lancelot. But in your current condition as it is, I rather have you here so the sight is only for me to see. As for who I shall task to deal with this traitor…”

Arthur pursed his lips, seeming to be deep in thought as his fingers rested on his muzzle. Lancelot took the time as the chance to quickly make himself look presentable - at least presentable enough for him to be able to leave the king's chambers without rousing suspicions.

When the king seemed to have made up his mind, he did not bother himself to mention Lancelot's more presentable self and instead simply spoke.

“Bring me Sir Lamorak and Sir Galahad before the day ends. They shall be the ones to deal with Merlina.”

Shocked, Lancelot's eyes widened as the traitor was named.

“Merlina the Royal Wizard?” Lancelot blurted, disbelieving as he recalled that it was the wizard who had taught Arthur magic. He thought the two of them would have been forging a solid bond as the two of them were capable of wielding magic.

The king simply nodded to Lancelot's exclamation, looking unfazed and as if he had seen such an outcome coming.

“Of course, it goes without saying that you shall not speak of this matter to anyone - even to Sir Lamorak and Sir Galahad and even after I have given them the orders to deal with the wizard,” Arthur ordered, fingers went to move to the windowsill and drumming them against it quietly.

Lancelot was never one to question his king's words, as that, too, was a line no one should ever cross. But his determination to ensure his king would be safe under his own roof took over, and, for once, the black hedgehog argued the king's words for the first time in a long while.

“If it is a swift and clean elimination, I am perfectly capable of dealing with her by myself, my king. I would not be able to rest well knowing the wizard is so close to you and living under the same roof as you, even if the palace is huge and guards are always available and patrolling.”

Perhaps it was Lancelot's lucky day, as the king remained unfazed and merely clicked his tongue chidingly, shaking his head from side to side disapprovingly. He only started talking when he had a good look at Lancelot's eyes and when they made eye contact once again.

“I chose Sir Lamorak and Sir Galahad to execute the task based on your assessments, Lance. Sir Gawain and Sir Percival have to remain in the palace as I am here, and I need at least two knights to be able to overpower Merlina, for I have seen for myself how capable she is in defending herself.”

Taking a step forward and keeping his hands behind his back, Arthur stood in front of his knight, close as usual as he seemed to have taken a liking to looking down on the black hedgehog.

“As for you, well, it is as I said once before: you are to be kept here in the palace with me. Always to stay by my side.

And if you do find yourself having trouble sleeping at night, concern for my wellbeing…”

A playful and coquettish smirk graced the king's lips, and Lancelot's heart almost felt like it would stop beating then and there as the king continued with an alluring drawl.

“...I know of a way or two to tire you enough so you could be in deep sleep after.”

The king allowed his knight to take his leave a few moments later, and Lancelot had never been so eager to leave his king's side - not when his mind was feeding to him thoughts he was too mortified of to even think about.

He could only hope all will be forgotten in time. Quickly.

***

Chapter Text

They No Longer Feel Special

***

Special: “better, greater, or otherwise different from what is usual; belonging specifically to a particular person or place.”

***

A few weeks had passed, and Lancelot was reaching his limit.

Every time he walked past Merlina, his hand would instinctively reach for the hilt of his sword, and every time, he had to watch the wizard walk away free, her very being as if taunting the knight to sink his sword into her heart.

He was sure that Arthur had given orders to Lamorak and Galahad to deal with the wizard, yet Lancelot hadn't seen the two of them do anything to complete the task.

The king had told him that he was not allowed to bring up the betrayal to anyone in conversations; including Lamorak and Galahad. So Lancelot's hands were tied, and he was unable to ask nor be nosy.

For the times he was always by Arthur's side, Lancelot had the urge to ask plenty of times already, but every time, it felt like something was stopping him from asking. Whether it was because he subconsciously knew asking would be a bad idea or if Arthur used his magic to stop the knight from asking somehow, Lancelot didn't know.

These loose ends dangling right in front of his eyes were making the knight incredibly bothered. Bothered enough to be unable to sleep and rest properly. It didn't help that every time the thought ‘I can't sleep’ came to mind, the king's suggestive offer would appear unwelcome and unbidden, and it only made the black hedgehog even more desperate to not sleep.

It got to the point that everyone seemed to notice his drained state, and started being mother hens and asking if everything was okay or if they could help with anything.

Even if Lancelot had expected it, he was still filled with a mild sense of dread and an overpowered sense of gratefulness when Lamorak suggested that the Knights of the Round Table should take a night off to ‘take a break’. ‘Taking a break’, or, in other words, drinking to their hearts’ content and hard enough that they would be sleeping soundly for hours on end, guaranteed.

The sense of dread was mostly because they all had their own drunken habits that could be quite troublesome. Gawain had the tendency to challenge anyone to spar, Galahad oftentimes ended up making the things around him float without meaning to, Lamorak got even louder and boisterous especially when he had an audience, and Lancelot himself had his own fair share of embarrassing drunken habits; namely having no filter.

His drunken habit may be taken lightly and seen as the most tame, but with what was in his mind these past few weeks, Lancelot would rather not try his luck and get drunk before spilling out thoughts and secrets that he preferred keeping to himself.

As for Percival, it's either she would immediately fall asleep once she reached her limit, or she would encourage the other knights’ unruly behavior - which she would have never done sober.

There was once when a poor royal guard was made to spar with Gawain as Percival had dragged them from another table at the bar they were in. There was also the time when Percival challenged Galahad to float everything and everyone in the room - including persons. Lamorak was the loudest when Percival kept on saying that the hawk had a lovely voice and that he should sing more often, resulting in almost causing all occupants in the bar to go deaf.

It especially didn't help Lancelot's case when Percival seemed to always know what to ask the black hedgehog whenever she was intoxicated; as if she had him all figured out.

That unstoppable ability paired with Lancelot's uncontrollably honest mouth from being drunk is not a good combination for what the black hedgehog had been having in his mind.

“I'm afraid His Majesty would not be so keen on that idea, Lamorak. Perhaps the four of you will be given permission to, but it is my duty to be with him at all times.” Lancelot reasoned, so convinced that his king would not let him go.

Except he was wrong, and Arthur didn't even spare a moment to think of his answer when the green hawk asked for their king's permission for a night of rest.

“Permission granted, Lamorak. You all have been working so diligently; all of you deserve a break.

That includes you, my Lancelot.” the king said, smiling at Lancelot who schooled his surprised expression into a neutral one as he nodded at his king's words.

With those words, Lancelot resigned to his fate for the night, and followed along with his fellow knights to a bar that was reserved just for them - which made the black hedgehog feel the slightest bit glad knowing at least no bystanders would be subjected to their drunken shenanigans.

“Are you sure this will be a good idea, Percival? You yourself know how much of a handful we could be when we are not in our right mind.” Lancelot tried one last time when only Percival and he hadn't entered the bar; one last ditch effort.

“Don't be a wet blanket, Lancelot. We will be fine, I am sure. Besides; the employees here have gone out of their way to ensure our comfort by saving the whole venue for us. We would be casting their hard work into the drain if we leave at once.” Percival ended up replying, a comforting hand on Lancelot's shoulder as she seemed to have come to the conclusion that her hedgehog of a friend was just a tad bit uncomfortable.

The knights had gone to the bar without wearing their armor to not stand out, so in that regard, Lancelot was, indeed, uncomfortable.

It was also because of the rule that ‘knights were expected to wear armor at all times to ensure that they are always prepared for emergencies’ that the number of people who knew of the faces behind those visors was few. Only a select few - mostly those who worked relatively close to the Knights - knew each face of the Knights of the Round Table, including the king himself - which went without saying.

In other words, it was safe to say that even the workers at the bar weren’t aware of their work - minus the boss, perhaps. And the workers who practically live here and work 24/7.

Percival moved her hand that was on Lancelot's shoulder to the black hedgehog’s bicep, and tugged so that the hedgehog would be walking closer to her as they entered the premises, the cat whispering her next words so only her friend could hear her.

“If it could provide you some comfort, the ones who are working for the night are close friends of Lamorak. They all know of our identities as they had run errands for the palace once or twice.

If any sort of threat was to loom, Lamorak had asked his friends to have some swords and armours stored at the back. Not totally defenseless, are we?”

Lancelot truly appreciated how his friend was trying to lift his spirits, but dangers of the blood-resulting sort were the least of the black hedgehog’s concerns at the moment.

Nevertheless, the black hedgehog thanked Percival for her consideration, and told himself that he just had to make sure to be the last one drunk.

Theoretically speaking, such a task was not entirely impossible. In fact, most of the time he was always the last one drunk, considering his alcohol tolerance was the highest out of all his fellow knights. All he had to do was take frequent little sips. It should not be too difficult.

Except it became difficult as soon as Gawain came bounding towards him, wrapped an arm around the black hedgehog, and bodily dragged the knight to sit between the green hawk and the red echidna, who wore matching scheming faces.

Perhaps Lancelot's dignity was meant to die and be buried in the bar after all.

“Lancelot! As we are here to lift your spirit, you shall be the one to lose his footing first!” Lamorak cackled, the other knights whooping and cheering in encouragement as drinks were suddenly placed on the round table they were sitting at.

When Lancelot hesitated for even a moment, Gawain smacked the back of the black hedgehog's back encouragingly, and Lancelot weakly glared at the red echidna in response, not at all having its desired effect on the echidna who merely snickered.

“Come on, Lancelot. Has it not been a while since we all hang out together like this? Just the five of us? Lighten up!” Galahad tried to persuade the black hedgehog, a sincere smile on his lips spelling out that he completely believed that a drunk night out would help the black hedgehog sleep better.

Maybe. Maybe not.

The red echidna beside Lancelot quipped a quick ‘I could have not said it better myself!’ in response to Galahad's words, but when the black hedgehog did not budge to drink, Gawain huffed, and tried using a different approach.

“You chose to not share with us what it is that is bothering you, but you also chose to not deal with whatever it is that is bothering your head healthily by drinking it away.

If I had not known any better, I would have thought that your current dilemma must be a… certain blue hedgehog - who seemed to have no use for you anymore considering you are here with us tonight.”

There was a collective gasp of surprise with a mix of nervousness at Gawain's words, but it was not the kind of surprised gasp one would make when they first found out something. The surprised gasps that Lancelot heard were as if the others had discussed this topic by themselves, and Gawain was the first to bring it up to Lancelot's attention.

The grab for Gawain's collar was instant and instinctive, but the bigger hand that stopped his hand seemed to also have expected the grab: instant and instinct.

Perhaps Lancelot had been sparring with Gawain far more frequently than normal to have his attacks read so easily.

Gawain barked a burst of laughter at whatever furious expression was on Lancelot's face, and the black hedgehog was about to snap back a retort or two when Lamorak's boisterous laughter made its debut for the night.

“You could not be any more obvious, Lance! A mention of him in any way, and you immediately start ‘thrashing’ around! You're like a time bomb waiting for your time to tick away - like a livewire waiting to burst and explode! See; that is what we are all trying to ‘put out’ tonight.” the hawk drawled, picking up a beer mug filled to the brim and tauntingly showing it at the black hedgehog, a challenging smirk neatly placed on his lips infuriatingly.

Lancelot sneered at the green hawk, and started tugging at his hand that Gawain was still persistently holding as if he knew letting go would mean for this to break out into a brawl, yet to no avail.

All of a sudden, a familiar glow of blue was around all three of them - Gawain, Lancelot, and Lamorak - and it didn't take a genius to know that it was Galahad.

Galahad made it so that Gawain let go of Lancelot's hand, before he made all three of them properly sit at the table, the beer mug Lamorak was holding placed between the green hawk and the black hedgehog before the silver hedgehog spoke, albeit hesitantly.

“What Lamorak meant to say, Lancelot, is that we are… we are currently out of duties and from duties, and we thought that you need it the most out of everyone here. We are concerned, as while we all know His Majesty has always favored you more than any of us, it also does not change the fact that being his favorite means to have a lot of pressure and burden placed on your shoulders.

For tonight, even if you do not want to share what it is that weighs your mind, we hope that we at least are able to relieve you of stress.”

Galahad's tone was much more acceptable than Gawain's and Lamorak's taunting approach - that, Lancelot could say.

Lancelot pursed his lips begrudgingly, fully aware of the furrow of his eyes just as he was fully aware of the truth of his fellow knights’ words.

Undeniably, he had been quite… unfair to some, and closed off to others. Arrogant whenever he won a spar with even a mere royal guard in training, and rude whenever anyone unfamiliar to him tried as much as to ask him how his day was.

It was also the truth that his worries were connected to those of a blue hedgehog, but he simply didn't like how Gawain phrased his words.

When Galahad deemed that Lancelot wouldn't start throwing hands and with Percival's agreement, the silver hedgehog released his friends, and the black hedgehog decided to take his fellow knights’ advice.

Drinking a whole beer mug in one go after not drinking for so long should have been an obvious ‘bad idea’ - but Lancelot couldn't care less and only did when he slammed the empty mug onto the table and was distractedly aware of a trail of the drink slipping past his lips.

The other occupants at the table gaped at him, but Lancelot was too busy coughing a little at the sudden rush of liquid in his throat to care.

He could already feel the words he would come to regret saying in the morning at the tip of his tongue.

Unlike Lancelot who was dreading the words that would come out of his mouth, his knights seemed to like whatever it was they were seeing on the black hedgehog.

Gawain, in particular, looked extremely ecstatic, grinning wide as he gave his black hedgehog friend a pleased look.

“Oh look; he is going to start reading love poems out loud about his beloved blue lover.” Gawain teased, his words not necessarily registering in Lancelot's head.

Lamorak cackled before he downed his own drink in one go, coughing a few seconds after and wondering out loud how the black hedgehog seemed to manage to down it better than he could.

Galahad shushed the hawk and the echidna, while Percival shook her head from side to side, sipping her own drink and donning a triumphant smile as she regarded both Lamorak and Gawain with a smug look.

“I told you Galahad would be much better at calming Lancelot down and advising him to relax. Unlike you two, Lancelot actually does appreciate Galahad's and my words.” she claimed, turning to look over at Lancelot before she continued, “aren't I right, Lancelot?”

Instead of answering Percival's question, Lancelot ended up blurting the first thought that was in his mind as he reached for another mug.

“Is it actually plausible that I have upset him somehow? To the point that he would rather be alone than have me with him?”

A moment of silence managed to start before it ended just as abruptly, with Gawain and Lamorak cackling the loudest and obnoxiously smacking their hands onto the table while Galahad gaped, seeming as if he couldn't believe what had come out of the black hedgehog’s mouth.

Percival, thankfully, actually came up with an answer to address Lancelot's question and be of help.

“I could vouch for King Arthur that he did not grow tired of you, Lancelot. It is not that he had grown tired of you; perhaps he saw that you had looked more drained than usual, and shared the opinion that was to allow you some time with your fellow knights to relieve and rest.”

Galahad nodded in agreement to the cat's words before he added his own opinion.

“It is exactly as Percival had said: King Arthur was simply being as considerate as he usually would of his subjects - which includes you, even if your relationship with him is… well, ambiguous? Is that a suitable word for your arrangement?”

‘Ambiguous’?

Gawain nodded and agreed, taking his own chug of his drink before speaking.

“That is exactly the word you are looking for, Sir Galahad. No other better way to put it.”

Lancelot scowled at the red echidna's words, glaring as he directed his glare at the red knight specifically.

“There is nothing ambiguous about Arthur's relationship with me. He is the king I serve, and I am the knight he-”

‘-owns.’, was what Lancelot was about to say, but fortunately managed to stop himself from finishing by biting on his tongue, wincing but glad that he didn't finish his thought out loud.

Gawain raised an eye ridge, having noticed Lancelot biting his tongue to stop finishing his sentence, and narrowed his eyes skeptically at the black hedgehog before leaning in close.

“Why did you cut yourself off?” Gawain asked, curious and skeptical.

A drunken Lancelot lying was no good nor was it convincing: so he digressed.

“I just could not wrap my head around why His Majesty would not need my assistance tonight. He has so many things to do that I could help with, and he knows I am perfectly capable of helping him. So why…?”

Lamorak was the one to reply this time around: not exactly the reply that Lancelot expected.

“Oh I am sure you helped him a lot - especially when you stay over his chambers overnight.”

There was a loud slam on the table, and Lancelot flinched at the sound as he turned to find that it was Galahad, of all people.

“You swore you would not bring that up, Lamorak! We were supposed to not bring that up to not embarrass him! Tonight is supposed to be a night where he can take his mind off King Arthur!” Galahad fumed, losing his cool and narrowing his eyes at Lamorak who shrugged dismissively.

Gawain made a hand gesture to tell the silver hedgehog to calm down, before talking.

“With how the king is the only thing in his mind, I don't think anything we say will take his mind off him. Especially after Lamorak said what he said.”

Lancelot was not sure if the warmth in his cheeks was from being drunk or from embarrassment at the implication of Lamorak's words, but he was quick to deny once he had gathered himself.

“All I have done is helped him with his duties. Nothing else and especially nothing more.”

Lamorak scoffed, disbelieving - which prompted Lancelot to turn and look at the green hawk.

“‘Nothing more’? Then who has been helping him if he requires assistance in the regards of-?”

“Lamorak! Mind your language.” Percival hissed, looking at the hawk disapprovingly while the hawk remained unfazed.

“Do not play the fool, Perci. We all are aware of how our king had been rejecting marriage proposals left and right because his heart has already been taken by a certain someone. It is only a matter of time before he would propose, would it not?

I find it unfair how Lancelot has not at all been able to partake in what people his age had been partaking in all their lives just because Lance's ‘lover’ just happened to be a king. The king had been in Lance's life since forever! Poor Lance for missing out. It's also the reason why we have no one here to help him distract his mind from things. Bummer.” Lamorak talked and talked, Lancelot struggling to keep up with his mind addled and affected by the drink in his system.

In the end, he latched onto the information that he found most mind-boggling.

“His Majesty has been rejecting marriage proposals?”

Not for the first time that night, the knights paused in sync, staring at Lancelot as if he had grown another head, before Percival cleared her throat almost uncomfortably.

“... Yes. I have been rejecting them in his stead as he told me he could not be bothered with trivial and unnecessary ‘demands’.” Percival claimed, looking at the black hedgehog in concern while the black hedgehog let the information sink in.

… this was absurd.

“You all have been mistaken, I am sure. His Majesty and I do not… are not involved the way you think we are involved. At all. At least- at least not anymore.

There was nothing ever. You all are mistaken.” Lancelot declared, standing up abruptly and stumbling before bracing himself to stand up using the table, vision swirling as he had lost count of the number of mugs he had drunk.

There was chastising chatter going around, with Galahad saying that they were stressing Lancelot out with these questions while Gawain and Lamorak insisted that they were just concerned. Meanwhile, Percival looked almost nervous as she observed Lancelot's next moves.

“I am going to confront His Majesty myself,” Lancelot claimed, causing his friends to immediately sputtered before they rushed to stand up, set on stopping Lancelot who was already making his way to the exit, stumbling a couple of times here and there as he was intoxicated.

Galahad managed to stand in Lancelot's way before the black hedgehog could reach for the doorknob, and the silver hedgehog chuckled awkwardly as he stuttered out.

“That's- I don't think that's a good idea, Lancelot. At least not right now? You… are drunk, and your sober self would lose it if you meet His Majesty in your current state. Please ignore Lamorak's words.

Besides, I, um, sure that whatever reasons His Majesty has for not proclaiming his love to you are… formidable? So are your reasons for keeping your feelings under wraps and a secret, I am sure. We just- we are just letting you know that we all have accidentally caught you and His Majesty, um, you know, and we do not judge and are completely supportive of it. So- so don't do this, okay?”

… (Lancelot decided that he was either going to move far away from Camelot as soon as he woke up with his memory intact, or pretend nothing had happened when he woke up the next day with absolutely no recollection of this humiliating night out with his fellow knights.)

“I am talking to him.” Drunk Lancelot slurred, pushing aside the silver hedgehog and zipping away, not even trying to understand what it was that his friends were shouting as he left in a flash.

One moment he was breezing through the city, and the next he was already in the castle halls, speeding past guards and straight to his king's room without tripping impressively - even if his mind was still a mess and he was very much still intoxicated.

Lancelot didn't even bother to knock before he pushed the doors to his king's chambers wide open, walking right into it and immediately noticing how dark the room was, minus the many candles littered around, lit with a fire that burned a strange shade of purple.

The king, standing in the middle of the room, turned to his doors almost expectantly, and smiled in what Lancelot's intoxicated mind saw as adoration, the king's red eyes raking over his knight's form before he spoke softly.

“My Lancelot. I had been waiting for you, but I am pleasantly surprised that you are here so early.”

The black hedgehog proceeded further into the room, sparing a look around but unable to resist the need to return his gaze back to the one standing in the middle of it all.

“You were waiting for me?”

“Well-“

“Have I made you wait for too long? I apologize; I have failed you by not being punctual. It was not my intention- Did you pass your orders to someone else to give to me? I could not recall you asking to meet me tonight.”

The knight came to a pause once he was standing before the king, but with his unreliable vision, he ended up standing too close to his king, slurring his words, and was undeniably crossing a line.

Arthur didn’t look all too bothered by his knight cutting him off mid-sentence. Endeared, he may be.

“Lance.” the king called out with a gentle voice, his voice going right over the black hedgehog’s head. The black hedgehog who had started rambling over how he was sorry for having disappointed his king in some way to the point that the king had to send him away for a night to himself.

Grabbing a hold of Lancelot’s shoulders, the king looked properly into the black hedgehog’s eyes before he spoke once again.

“Lance. Allowing you to spend a night with your friends was not a punishment.”

“It was not?”

“Goodness, no. What made you assume such a thing?”

“You sent me away. Away from you. I had thought I wronged you or offended you somehow. That perhaps I had annoyed you.” Lancelot admitted truthfully, eyes so clear and bearing his very soul to his king, subconsciously or not. (Arthur had the feeling it was the former.)

The king stared down at his loyal knight, smiling as he slowly moved his hands to the base of his knight’s neck, palm tingling when he could have the slightest feel of the black hedgehog’s chest heaving up and down: breathing and alive.

(Loyal to a fault.)

“You have done nothing wrong, My Lancelot. You are… one of a kind. I would never discard you.” The king said, rubbing his thumb over where it could reach and savoring the thrill that came along with the simplest touch.

Lancelot dazedly murmured an ‘oh’, and all of a sudden the black hedgehog no longer looked all too rearing to go. All of a sudden he seemed all too eager to sleep.

Turning around from his king unceremoniously, Arthur’s hands dropped themselves from the black hedgehog’s shoulders, but one of them gravitated to Lancelot’s wrist instead.

“Where are you going?” Arthur asked.

“To my chambers,” Lancelot answered.

“Why?”

“I do not want to intrude on you any longer. It is best that I spend the night in my own chambers from now on. I do not want others to make false assumptions about your involvement with a knight - me, no less. I am not worthy enough, and it is also unsightly for a king to be with anyone but their king or queen.” Lancelot answered, so honestly as if he was given a truth serum. (The black hedgehog did not need a truth serum to speak honestly, unfortunately.)

Arthur pursed his lips, thinking over Lancelot’s words, before his sharp and quick-witted mind figured it out seamlessly.

“I do not seek companionship from anyone but you, my Lancelot. You are more than enough for me. Worthy enough for me.”, the king confidently said, cupping a side of Lancelot’s face and leaning in to press their lips together only to stop when the black hedgehog insisted that he was not worthy.

“Hm… it seems you still have a lot to learn, my knight. You should know, that whatever I say is the absolute truth. If I say that you are worthy, then you are indeed worthy.”

(‘If I say that you are mine, then you are mine.)

As the king kindly let him sleep on the king’s bed, Lancelot found himself dizzy: from both the warning danger he sensed when his king’s hands momentarily closed around his neck and the fluttering of his heart when their lips met.

***

Chapter Text

Feeling Hopeless About The Future Together

***

Hopeless: “feeling or causing despair.”

***

Lamorak and Galahad had gone missing.

Merlina had gone missing.

Arthur had been uncontrollable in the past few days: locking himself in his room for days, obsessively learning new spells and making plans he would not disclose to Lancelot, disappearing for days on end without informing anyone of his whereabouts and destinations, and… and isolating himself.

Lancelot had gone out of his way to keep up with the king: to keep track of the king's movements.

Despite having expected the king to immediately ask him to cease his act of following after his every move, the king did no such thing.

For the few times he had acknowledged Lancelot's presence, he managed to pinpoint the black hedgehog’s location every single time, demanding the knight's presence for whatever it was that he needed.

Sometimes it was because he wanted to complain and vent, sometimes it was because he wanted to ask for a second opinion of the most outrageous questions, and sometimes it was because he simply wanted to see the black hedgehog.

“I am in distress. Was it not you who claimed how it is crucial that a king is to be in a great state of mind at all times?” Arthur had said while they were in the middle of a forest, blue quills unruly and prominent eye bags on his face when asked why he asked to see the knight for the simple act of seeing the knight.

“Yes, but what does ‘seeing me’ have to do with a great state of mind, my king?”

Arthur laughed, tired but amused, before he answered breezily.

“Seeing you never fail to bring me peace of mind, my Lancelot.”

Sometimes, moments like that, moments that stir Lancelot's heart pleasantly, happened. Other times…

Other times the king was not himself.

Lancelot entered the king's chambers, as he was told that his immediate presence was demanded by the blue hedgehog, but the black hedgehog was greeted with the sight of the chamber being in a mess: books haphazardly opened all over the table and floor, along with papers and a few pieces of broken glasses and ceramics scattered on the floor.

The king was in the middle of it all, kneeling over in front of pieces of a broken framed picture he had a famous painter draw: of himself along with the Knights of the Round Table.

The blue hedgehog’s hands were stained with his own blood that was cut with the sharp pieces, and Lancelot, pushing his visor up to get a better look at everything, immediately made his way to the king in worry, not even getting another word out before his throat was suddenly constricting, abruptly stopping him from moving closer.

His king's hand was lifted, outstretched towards the knight who immediately understood that his king must have mistaken him for someone else.

“Leave,” Arthur growled, not even bothering to look at his knight, seeming to be in some form of pain as his other hand pressed to his forehead, smearing the blood from his cuts on his blue quills.

In a desperate attempt to shake away his king's magic from his neck, Lancelot tried prying it away with his hands despite knowing it was futile before he choked out.

“My king-! It's me- Lancelot-!”

“Whose Lancelot?” the king asked, the question baffling Lancelot for a moment before the hold on his neck tightened, forcing him to cough and choke. (Did he mean ‘who's’ or ‘whose’?)

“Yours-!”

The tight hold on his neck loosened, but it remained as Arthur finally turned to look at the black hedgehog, red eyes skeptical despite having seen the knight.

“How could I trust you?” the king asked, taking cautious steps toward the black hedgehog who was once again befuddled at such a weird question.

The king seemed to notice the confusion, and took offense from it as his hand squeezed, the magic around Lancelot's throat squeezing the knight's neck tighter.

“You could be someone disguising themselves as Lancelot, for all I know. Everyone knows he is who I hold most dear in both heart and mind.” Arthur proclaimed, the strength of his magic momentarily dwindling as his head seemed to be in pain, his other hand returning to its place on the blue hedgehog’s temple as if such a gesture would help ease the ache.

“It is a weakness. It must be handled.” the blue hedgehog murmured, distracted and voice almost distorting as his hand that wielded the magic turned into a clench, causing spots of black to color Lancelot's vision.

In a desperate attempt to snap his king out of whatever trance the blue hedgehog was in, Lancelot mustered up enough energy to whisper something that only he and the king knew.

“Blue-!”

It was a nickname only Lancelot used for the king. A nickname that Lancelot used as the king's name when everyone else used it as a mere nickname.

The instant that name left the knight's lips, the pressure around his throat was immediately gone, and Lancelot ended up on his knees as he hunched forward, hands securing around his throat as if doing so would rid of the aftereffects of almost being suffocated.

The tears that had been gradually forming in his eyes from lack of air finally shed, but none managed to even drop to the floor before his muzzle was roughly grabbed, forcing him to look up and meet eyes with blood-red ones - skeptical ones.

“How did you know that?” Arthur demanded, only loosening his hold enough for the knight to speak.

“Because I am your Lancelot, my king.” Lancelot insisted, maintaining a calm composure despite having almost been killed at his own king's hands.

There's an unfamiliar glint in the king's eyes, burning and flickering for the first time and directed at Lancelot, of all things.

Disdain. (Hatred.)

“...then you shall leave this instant.” the king declared, harshly letting go of Lancelot's muzzle before standing up, already walking away towards his desk while the black hedgehog scrambled to stand, looking at the blue hedgehog in confusion.

“But my king-?”

“‘Sire’ is fine.” Arthur coldly replied, tone biting and not even caring to properly look at the black hedgehog who froze at the correction.

A tug on his heart, unfamiliar and unlike the way his heart would sing and swoon when in the presence of his king, could be felt, seeming to want to tear it open and leave its content spilling, no one to gather or catch them.

Pushing aside the heartache, Lancelot focused on the one who truly mattered.

“Sire, you requested my assistance here, and even if I am unaware of what it is that you need my assistance with, I am sure I am perfectly capable of carrying it out just as I always do-”

“You are a thorn in my side, Lancelot.”

Arthur finally turned to look at Lancelot, but all that enveloped the black hedgehog once the king's eyes landed on him was not the warmth he had grown to seek and learned to bask in, but the coldness of someone wanting him away.

Moving towards Lancelot once again, but with a much more deliberately slow pace and precise movement, Arthur spoke with an aloofness and coldness that felt more like a stab to the heart than mere words.

“To obtain a rose and to do as one pleases with it without harming oneself, they will have to cut the thorns on the rose's stem.

To get to me, they will have to rid of you.”

There was an obvious implication behind those words; implication that Arthur was trying to get Lancelot out of harm's way unnecessarily. (That was merely one implication that Lancelot managed to grasp among some others; including how he was truly the king's only well-known weakness.)

“Sire, it is my duty to protect you-”

“It is your duty to serve me as I see fit.

From this moment onwards, you shall receive the same duties as Sir Gawain and Sir Percival. Search for Sir Lamorak and Sir Galahad's whereabouts. Do what you must do to ensure Merlina is stopped at all costs.

Cease any duties I have ever assigned to you alone. I will handle them myself.

We shall no longer be seen by ourselves in private spaces such as my chambers.”

By the end of his words, Arthur stood tall before Lancelot, and all the black hedgehog could do was look into those once-again emerald green eyes in… resignation.

How unfair was it that this felt like the end of a relationship when there was never a beginning in the first place?

Still, for a moment too long, Arthur stared, and Lancelot both expected and not expected the hand that was on his muzzle, emerald green eyes suddenly filled with longing and regret before they were quickly glossed over with determination.

The blood on the king's fingers was no longer wet and had dried, and Lancelot let himself feel the brush of his king's fingers on his face one last time.

Just as the hand on his muzzle, the kiss was expected just as much, but unlike the ones they had shared before, this one was a ‘goodbye’.

When they parted, Arthur gave Lancelot's ruby red eyes one last long look, and gently pushed the black hedgehog’s visor down before he whispered wistfully.

“I'm glad I never went through with not making visors mandatory for knights.”

(Arthur could save himself from getting drowned in those eyes only so many times.)

Not providing an explanation, Arthur went to turn his back towards Lancelot, but the black hedgehog, for the first time in his life, stopped the king: grabbing for the blue hedgehog’s wrist and feeling a tinge of fear as he hesitated to look at the king in the eyes. (What was he supposed to expect to see?)

“At least let me tend to your wounds, Sire.” Lancelot softly spoke, giving the wrist in his hand a squeeze and prompting Arthur to glance at the action, surprised at the knight's request.

“... are you belittling my capabilities to treat my wounds myself?”

“... would you not allow me to hold you one last time?”

The king, stunned at his knight's words, stared at the black hedgehog for the nth time once more, a light flush on his cheeks out of disbelief, taken aback and mesmerized.

“You… A request. From you.” Arthur stammered, seeming to have forgotten the cold act he was putting on, and slowly turned to look at the black hedgehog.

“I apologize for stepping out of line, sire, but see this as my last request, and I shall… no longer be in your way-”

“If you must.”

Arthur didn't really give Lancelot a chance to finish his sentence, effortlessly adjusting their hands so he was the one holding the knight's hand before dragging the black hedgehog to his bed, the two of them sitting at the edge of the bed momentarily before the blue hedgehog reached into his drawer and took out a small container filled with bandages and other medical tools.

With the way he was acting, Lancelot could have forgotten the grim moment they shared prior to this moment.

But he didn't.

He remembered his king's words loud and clear in his mind even when he was dabbing the dried wounds with a cotton pad, even when he found himself marveling at his king's hands, even when he was acutely aware of how their touch lingered and how they were both unwilling to be the first to leave, and even when he stood at the door, a hand on the doorknob and ready to leave.

Lancelot wondered if this was truly goodbye. Or perhaps it would be another one of those temporary goodbyes that felt like a last goodbye.

(He doubted that this was the case.)

Twisting the doorknob, Lancelot paused, contemplating, before deciding that it was now or never.

“My king.” Lancelot called out, eyes trained on the doors as he felt his hands tremble, internally swearing to himself that this would be the first and last time he said these words out loud as Arthur's words along the lines of ‘address me as’ sire’’ going right over the black hedgehog’s head in the process.

Once he had plucked enough courage, Lancelot turned to look enough so that he could meet his king's eyes through the knight's visor before he spoke with a barely audible voice, loud enough only for the blue hedgehog to hear.

“I am forever grateful for your generosity and the affection and attention you have given to me. Seeing as our paths would no longer cross as often as they had been, just this once…

My life would have not been as fulfilling as it is now without you in it.”

Not waiting a moment longer, Lancelot left.

No one chased after him.

True to his words, Arthur never summoned Lancelot, and Lancelot remained by Percival's and Gawain's side, returning to his old days’ routine with it.

Whenever they passed each other in the castle halls, they were somehow always not alone: Lancelot with Percival or Gawain, while the king would be surrounded by guards and a newly appointed advisor. (Not necessarily an advisor, but more of the one who ended up having to pick up where the king slacked whenever the blue hedgehog decided to run off.)

Lancelot could always feel the king's eyes lingering on his form, but every time he turned to look, all he could see was the king's back - which was becoming more and more distant and almost detached, far from and no longer in the knight's reach.

“... is everything doing well between you and His Majesty?” Percival asked when the two of them walked passed the king, seeming to have noticed something Lancelot did not notice as he forced himself to not let his gaze linger.

“...it ends as well as it could have,” Lancelot murmured, gaze cast downwards and silently observing the way the sunlight glinted on his armor.

Percival hummed, thoughtful as Lancelot could feel her inquiring gaze on his side profile, before the cat whispered softly.

“I do not think the king shared that sentiment.”

“...why?”

“I have noticed this the few times we passed by His Majesty, but it seems to me that he has something that is weighing his mind. Perhaps matters relating to you, as he always gives you a glance whenever we walk by.”

“There is no longer a matter to linger on. Not anymore.” Lancelot insisted, turning to face forward and opting to keep on ignoring his friend's gaze on him.

When the cat abruptly stopped walking, Lancelot took a couple more steps before he turned to look at his friend.

A moment of silence later, Percival spoke.

“Perhaps it would do us all a favor that it is you who are by his side instead of the poor ‘stand-in’. He could not keep up with His Majesty as well as you could.”

“That is the whole point, Percival.” Lancelot quickly said in reply, fists clenched to his sides as he refrained from snapping at his friend.

There's the bitter taste of sadness and rejection in his throat, thick and almost painful as if those emotions had manifested themselves into something that is capable of suffocating the black hedgehog from the inside - but instead of pushing them out of his throat, Lancelot kept on pushing.

Pushing those lumps down his throat, forcing himself to swallow them down like medicines and pills to not ever be seen again, and only to feel how they changed his insides, churning and twisting like an ache that would not go away try as he might.

“His Majesty no longer requires my assistance in what he is pursuing, and has cast me aside for I am no longer of use to his schemes.

My use to him as of now is only as a knight and just as a knight - like it has always been supposed to be.

I reaped what I sowed. I treaded on paths and crossed lines that weren't meant to be treaded and crossed. I have overstayed my welcome, and now I shall leave with what's left of my dignity by his command.

I have crossed enough boundaries and broken enough rules. I have gotten away from certain punishments and repercussions if only because His Majesty is generous and merciful.

He ordered me to no longer be in his way, and that I shall do. It is the least I could do as gratitude for allowing me to walk the ground despite everything.”

“Lancelot, it is truly not my intention to intrude or pry, but His Majesty is troubled by something, I am sure. It is not the disappearance of Sir Lamorak, Sir Gawain, and the wizard only that he is worried about. He needs support, no matter what it is that he said.”

“Then give him the support you think he needs, Percival.” Lancelot retorted, knowing that it was the reply that would come from the cat the moment she opened her mouth to speak.

“It is not I nor anyone else who is the closest to His Majesty other than you, Lancelot.

It has to be you.”

“You have held me in too high of a regard. I do not deserve such a thing.”

“But Lancelot-!”

“There is no future where I will be the one to be the one to stay by His Majesty's side forever, till deaths do us apart, for there is no such thing as a relationship of the sort between a king and a knight.

Perhaps the king had only realized such a thing recently, and then chose to abide by such a ‘rule’.

I will respect his decision. I must respect his decision.

I am no more than a knight who serves him, and if it is distance that he orders of me, then I shall oblige.

There is no future for him and I, and it is only a matter of time before he will find someone more worthy to carry his duties with. Someone more worthy for him to call his and be by his side, to trust and to love for the rest of his life.

I am happy for whatever it is he chooses as a happy ending; regardless if I am in the picture or not.”

There were truths and there were lies in his words, but the world is not only a black-and-white slate, and the line between a ‘knight’ and a ‘friend’ often blurred and lingered in the grey area, risking itself by leaning to a direction one time and staying cautious by remaining in its area unmoving and determined.

Lancelot simply wished that his king would live a fulfilling life and be able to achieve as many goals as he wanted to.

That was his only wish - as both a knight and a friend.

Only then did Percival stop insisting, ears drooping and looking at Lancelot with a gaze that the black hedgehog was not too fond of.

(He did not need pity.)

There's a moment where Percival hesitated and contemplated one last time, before she sighed and finally dropped the topic.

That was the last time either Percival or Gawain talked about Arthur with Lancelot.

When all three available Knights of the Round Table were summoned by the king at the throne room, they were told to expect attacks from Merlina, and be ready for battle at any moment's notice.

The three knights obliged, and left the throne room in silence.

There was a commotion when they left: something about how the king was once again phasing through walls as it had become Arthur's most recent favorite way of slipping away from his duties and pursuing his own secret objectives.

(Sometimes Arthur would hide away from the guards in Lancelot's chambers, perhaps a habit he couldn't shake off from having done so for so many years when he didn't want to be found despite insisting that they should no longer be seen alone, and the black hedgehog would remain quiet as guards walked past his room, one of them peeking in and asking if Arthur was there and leaving when Lancelot told him ‘no’.

When Arthur would leave, he would linger and stare at the black hedgehog in silence for a brief moment, before leaving unceremoniously: either through the main door or through the walls as he pleased.

But he always made sure to keep a distance between them. As if he was afraid he would go against his own words and breach the distance between them the moment he had the chance to do so.

Lancelot couldn't blame him. He would have done the same if he was in Arthur's shoes.)

The black hedgehog split ways from his fellow knights to head to the training grounds, but in a particularly dark hallway, his wrist was pulled, and there was the weird sensation of something going into his body before he found himself inside a storage room, immediately feeling familiar arms around him.

So the king was phasing through walls again.

This wasn't their first time. And perhaps it wouldn't be their last.

“Sire. You are terrible at keeping your word.” Lancelot found himself saying, repeating the same words he would say whenever this happened as he returned the warm embrace.

Just as always, Arthur did not say a word.

Just as always, Arthur left without a word.

(Just as always, this was how their future would be - if there was ever a ‘them’ in the future.)

***

Chapter Text

Seeking Out Opportunities to Be Without Them

***

Opportunities: “a time or set of circumstances that makes it possible to do something.”

***

When they managed to corner Merlina, Arthur was no longer the blue hedgehog Lancelot had gotten to know of.

With magic, he changed his form to be that of a man, and wielded the Excalibur wherever he went.

The kingdom was enveloped with fear: of their king's gradual but immediate change and of their fate of being under the rule of the king they no longer knew.

Despite the kingdom's fear and the palace’ staff's concerns, Lancelot's faith in the one he loved remained steadfast and strong, and so did the Knight of the Roundtable's loyalty to the king.

Arthur stopped caring for the absence of his two missing knights, having paid all of his attention to tracking down the royal wizard who had betrayed them.

When the Knights of the Round Table were told by the king that Merlina had summoned help from someone of another universe, they were also ordered to slay them on sight.

They were told that the one who was summoned was a hedgehog in red shoes. He claimed that the hedgehog’s skills were nothing compared to his own, and that it would be an easy task for the knights to take the hedgehog down.

As the king said those words, comparing himself to the hedgehog Lancelot hadn't met, the black hedgehog took note of the way the king's gaze lingered on him; almost as if he was making sure that the knight was attentively listening to his words.

He did not need to do such a thing. Lancelot would always give all of his attention to his king.

When the king went to leave, his gaze lingered, but, as always, he left his thoughts unsaid and fled.

It had been so long since Lancelot saw his king out of his armor and not in the form of a man. Yet he somehow could still vividly remember emerald green eyes and blue quills like he was allowed to such a sight just yesterday.

(It is hard to forget something that haunts one in their dreams and nightmares.)

While looking for the hedgehog he was ordered to slay, Lancelot let himself pondered over his confusion. He let himself ponder over why it was that the king's gaze lingered, when it had been months since he even looked the black hedgehog’s way. (As far as he was aware of.)

By the time he bumped into the hedgehog his king asked him to seek and slay, he came to understand why his king had acted the way he did.

The hedgehog was bare, safe for his gloves and red shoes, along with a talking sword in his hands. His quills were blue, his fur was peach, and his eyes were as green as the ones that haunted the black hedgehog in his dreams.

The resemblance was uncanny. The resemblance was undeniable.

Despite the immediate ache he felt in his heart, whether it was from pain or from longing he did not know, he raised his blade, and pointed it against the one whose looks resembled his king.

Briefly, he wondered if the king was messing with him, but it was becoming more and more obvious that the blue hedgehog standing before him at the moment was not the blue hedgehog he had grown up with.

The blue hedgehog, who was not his king, had found himself a sword, yet it was obvious that the blue hedgehog was a novice when it came to swordsmanship, further proven when even the talking sword the said hedgehog was holding himself chided the blue hedgehog.

An apprentice knight summoned from another world, perhaps. (Why would Merlina summon someone so incapable?)

“I have found you, apprentice knight, enemy of my King!” Lancelot declared, loud and clear as he looked at the blue hedgehog through his visor like a hawk.

(Was he being cautious, or was he satisfying the longing he had been experiencing at seeing a shadow of his king in someone else's form?)

The blue hedgehog looked at him in surprise, almost as if in recognition, before he exclaimed in both wonder and confusion, questioning and guessing, “Who the heck are you? Shadow...?”.

“I am Lancelot, Knight of the Round Table. I challenge you to a duel!” Lancelot demanded, preparing himself and getting into the proper stance to fight.

For some reason, his words did not invoke offense, fear, or any other emotions Lancelot had expected to see spelled on the blue hedgehog’s face at his proclamation. Instead, a familiar, heart-tugging sight was what greeted him.

Realization, eyes widened in surprise momentarily, before what seemed to be fondness followed soon after. A fondness that Lancelot had long forgotten from not being the subject of it for so long, yet still remembered from visiting those cherished memories every time he closed his eyes and let himself long for something to never be.

“Some things never change…” the blue hedgehog had murmured, amusement with thinly laced affection in his voice and words before the sword in his hand demanded to know what the hedgehog meant by that.

Once again, the blue hedgehog remained almost unfazed and nonchalant, a confidence familiar to that of Lancelot's king, yet so different.

“Aw, nothing. It's just that he looks like trouble.” the blue hedgehog claimed, grinning as if Lancelot's demand was a joke.

Lancelot was getting distracted. He had to deal with this impersonator quickly before he would start to falter.

“What shall it be? Will you abandon your sword and flee?” Lancelot challenged, stumped and stunned when the blue hedgehog, like a coward, made an attempt to run after saying how the latter option seemed to be a tempting and excellent idea.

King Arthur would never do such a thing.

(His Arthur would never do such a thing.)

The sword made Lancelot's task easy by insisting that the blue hedgehog fight, and that ‘a knight never flees a foe!’.

The sight of his foe being so stunningly similar to his king was starting to bother Lancelot greatly just as he expected he would; he needed a difference that he could use to properly differentiate and tell his mind and heart that the one standing in front of him was not the hedgehog who owned his heart.

“May I have your name, apprentice knight?”

“He is Knave the Hedgehog, and he accepts your challenge!” Caliburn made the decision for the cowardly knight, Lancelot quickly accepting the new name and repeating it in his mind, telling himself that it was Knave he would slay, and not Arthur, his king.

“Very well, then! Brace yourself, Knave the Hedgehog!” were the last words Lancelot said before his sword clashed with the inexperienced sword of the blue hedgehog.

He had thought the outcome was inevitable: the outcome that was he would come out triumph and it was the blue hedgehog who would lose.

And yet it was him who lost his sword.

Who is Knave the Hedgehog?

The next to face Knave was Gawain, who also lost, returning with a defeated and lost look, seeming to be deep in thought. It was not long before Percival joined them, having also been defeated by the blue hedgehog.

“He looks just like His Majesty,” Percival claimed when the silence among the three of them had stretched long enough, prompting both the black hedgehog and the red echidna to pay attention to her.

Gawain agreed with a silent nod, and the silence among them stretched before Lancelot spoke up and declared that perhaps they should focus on searching for Merlina instead of Knave, as it was the wizard who had summoned the blue hedgehog.

Far too many things were happening all at once, and Lancelot made do with focusing on one thing: the orders his king had given him and the Knights of the Round Table.

By the time the three knights managed to corner Merlina, Lancelot found himself significantly feeling more grounded.

“We have orders from the King. Have you any last words?” Lancelot asked, a challenging tone automatically seeping into his tone.

Instead of looking devastated and lost, Merlina remained undeterred, eyes locking on the black hedgehog’s ruby-red ones before she declared.

“Your King was nothing more than an illusion my grandfather conjured up.”

Caught off guard by the unexpected statement, all three hedgehogs momentarily exchanged looks, before Percival demanded that Merlina explain what she meant by those words.

“It is as I said. Your king is an illusion all along.

Arthur, along with his father, was an illusion made by my grandfather, Merlin.

He was easy to handle at first. Easy to control and puppeteer.

But you…” Merlina started talking, only to trail off as she glared at the black hedgehog among the three knights, a mixed look of amazement and annoyance in her gaze alone.

“You made him feel. Feel too much. He was magic, and magic is supposed to be something that is wielded: something that is able to be controlled. You made him sentient.

He was getting out of hand. He had forgotten to whom he belonged.

The scabbard was only a means to an end. To start the beginning of the end of Arthur of Camelot.

Your king is here no longer. You’re too late, for the one I have summoned from the other world would have beaten him by now, and realized that something is amiss.

But it is all too late.”

There was resignation in the wizard’s tone, but Lancelot could not care less for what was the wizard feeling when he was more so confused over the words that she had said.

However, at that moment, the blue hedgehog came to them, with Arthur’s scabbard on his person, and Lancelot’s heart beats.

It beats and beats; frantic and desperate.

Horrified.

“There was never any King Arthur,” Merlina said, approaching the blue hedgehog before taking the scabbard away from the hedgehog and claiming that with the scabbard, she would be able to erase her grandfather’s greatest mistake, and that she would make this kingdom eternal.

Too many things were happening at that time. Too many things were plaguing Lancelot’s mind, but for the sake of Camelot, he pushed these thoughts aside, and focused on what was important at the moment: to stop Merlina from finishing her plan.

Only when the dust had settled, only when Merlina was defeated, and only when the blue hedgehog disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared, did Lancelot let his mind properly think.

Arthur of Camelot was not real.

The one who had stolen his heart was an illusion.

A ghost.

He was missing the touch of a ghost.

Sat by a hill overlooking the kingdom, Lancelot had taken off his visor and placed it on the ground beside him, sitting on the field of grass as far as the eyes could see with flowers nestled between the blades of the grass, coloring the otherwise green landscape with various vibrant colors.

The ache in his heart and head did not make any effort to leave nor did they show signs of leaving.

A new ‘Arthur’ was already named; but he was not Lancelot’s Arthur.

The tears came to him as easy as it was for him to love Arthur of Camelot.

When he could feel Merlina's presence at his side, Lancelot simply pulled his legs close to his chest and hugged them tight, burying his face into his legs and hoping that the wizard would leave without a word. Hoping that the wizard was not here bearing more words that would only tear Lancelot's heart to bits and pieces.

“Sir Lamorak and Sir Galahad have returned. I merely put them to a temporary sleep to cease their search for me.” Merlina opened her mouth to say, her gaze on the black hedgehog was intense enough for the knight to feel it without looking.

Lancelot did not regard her words with a reply, and kept his face on his legs instead.

Some moments passed like so in silence, and while Lancelot could feel the gentle breeze brushing through his quills as if trying to comfort him, his heart remained scrambled, smaller pieces of them seeming to be carried away by the wind and leaving the knight with a heart that would be forever incomplete.

(There seemed to be whispers that came with the wind; but Lancelot’s thoughts were too loud for him to hear them.)

Eventually, when Lancelot grew unsure whether the steady gentle breeze on his quills was natural or whether it was Merlina's doing, the wizard came to stand beside the knight, before she eventually took a seat a distance away from the black hedgehog, copying how Lancelot was sitting and hugging her own legs to her chest.

“‘Every world has its end. I know that's kinda sad, but... That's why we gotta live life to the fullest in the time we have.’” Merlina slowly started, voice kept to a volume where the wind could easily carry away her words and leaving no one to be able to listen to them due to how soft they were uttered.

Lancelot listened.

“It was what Sonic had told me when I pondered why it was fair that something beautiful has to have its end.” Merlina continued, taking the silence as a sign of the knight listening.

Turning to look at Lancelot, Merlina stared at the black hedgehog for a brief moment, as if just doing so would allow her to understand what went on in the knight of the Round Table's head, before she asked, softly and coaxing.

“Did you manage to live in every moment when Arthur was by your side?”

He didn't.

Lancelot did not get to live in every moment when he was by his king's side.

He was never one to have so many wants and desires, and when he had them, it was always unattainable; always demanding something of his king.

Arthur's time.

Arthur's affections.

Arthur's gaze.

Arthur's touch.

Arthur's smiles.

These were all the wishes he had, and they were all the wishes that Lancelot tried to push away, telling himself that it was not right, and that he didn't deserve them for every time the king had generously showered him with them.

He thought to himself that as long as his king would be happy, he would be happy for his king.

And yet what was there to be happy for if his king was no longer to be seen?

Lancelot would turn 27 this year.

His king would not be there for his birthday.

Arthur had always been so bright. So unreal.

“I did not,” Lancelot murmured, uncaring whether the wizard heard him or not as he let his tears freely fall and soaked his muzzle. Tears that his king would have wiped away as he cradled the knight's face if he was still here.

Regrets have always been unavoidable in one's life, but this would be the biggest regret Lancelot had to live with for his remaining years.

“I have done what I must as a knight for him, but it was also for this reason that I have not done what my heart desires.” Lancelot continued talking, his grip on his arm tightening as he thought about his deepest wishes and desires.

Wishes and desires that would no longer be able to be granted.

(Forbidden before, impossible now.)

He wanted to spend his whole life beside Arthur. He wanted his time and Arthur's to be one and the same.

He wanted to keep Arthur close and know every inch of his king. He wanted to shower the king with as much affection as he could to the point that it would suffocate the king and dwarf the king's affections themselves.

He wanted to drown yet feel content in emerald green that often enchanted him and pulled and pulled. He wanted to return his king's gaze without caring about the difference in their status.

He wanted to touch. He wanted to cherish and appreciate his king the same way he had in his traitorous mind and heart.

He wanted to be at the receiving end of all of Arthur's sides, the perfect and imperfect. He wanted to be able to see all the joyful smiles that his king could give and the sorrowful tears that he would wipe away gently and caringly.

He wanted and wanted.

He had wanted something impossible, and now he was left with wanting something that would forever be unattainable.

Blue quills and peach fur would forever be alive in his memory. Emerald green eyes that Lancelot would get to see in someone else's eyes would only be a reminder of what he was he had lost without getting to understand and drown in forever.

Memories of the past would haunt him. Memories of what could have been would haunt him.

“...could you not return him to me, Merlina?” Lancelot found himself asking, voice far too broken and vulnerable to be heard by someone he wasn't so close to, yet he couldn't care less as he awaited for the answer to his question, hope already bursting at the seams.

The wizard seemed to have expected the question just as she had prepared her an answer beforehand.

“I am afraid that is not possible, Sir Lancelot,” she answered regretfully.

Hollow.

What took place once hope was gone was hollow.

“As I had expected.” Lancelot muttered, tears dried on his face as his mind was ready to ‘move on’.

His heart would not.

Sonic was his new king.

(Arthur would forever be his king.)

“There is no use brooding over something that is out of reach, then,” Lancelot claimed, voice forced to be held together as he finally took his face off his legs, ruby red eyes immediately being greeted with the sight of Camelot that will be rebuilt.

Camelot which was the kingdom he had sworn to protect and keep safe.

There was still a purpose that remained.

(There was still a purpose that could be completed.)

No longer would he be able to seek out his king.

No longer he would be able to have his king's company.

“I will keep my promise to him,” Lancelot claimed, giving himself a moment before he stood, giving the sight before him one last long look before he turned to the wizard who was still sitting on the ground but was already looking at him.

Despite the wound left in his heart, despite the numbness left in his mind, despite the ache that would forever be with him:

“I will continue to be the one worthy of being his closest.”

***

Chapter Text

Not Trying to Work It Out

***

Work it out: “to figure it out, to resolve it, to understand it; to come to an agreement.”

***

Arthur never knew who his mother was.

He never did care to find out. He only started to pretend that he cared and that he was deeply saddened and conflicted by this when the friends and acquaintances he made told him that it was odd he did not feel a hollow in his chest for not knowing who his mother was.

He had always known that he was different from the others.

Expressing emotions seemed to come easily to everyone around him. Yet oftentimes the smile on his face would feel off-putting, and the emotions he felt always seemed to need to be acted on rather than to feel.

He had thought that perhaps he suffered a condition, but when he described the ‘symptoms’ to his father, the king shook his head from side to side, amused, and claimed that his symptoms were normal, and that he, too, had struggled with such when he was younger and around Arthur's age.

“Once you find something worthy of your emotions, they will come easy to you, my son.” the king had wisely said, causing curiosity to gnaw at the blue hedgehog’s heart.

“Something? What is it? What does it look like?! Can you help me look for it?” Arthur asked excitedly, eager to feel the emotions he was often told. Emotions that were all too consuming and would leave him feeling not different and misplaced.

The king laughed, the sound kind and heartfelt.

“It differs between people, son.”

“And what was it for you?” Arthur asked, his tail wagging while his father's smile turned softer at his question.

“This kingdom and its people. They are the ones that allow me to feel.” the king answered, gently running his hands through the blue hedgehog’s quills lovingly while Arthur basked in the affection shown by his father, storing the king's words in his mind for him to ponder over once he had the time and space to himself.

He spent months mulling over what it was that would be able to make his heart feel. Years.

It got to the point when he decided there was no point mulling over something he had no clue of, and opted to instead focus on becoming a prince worthy of the kingdom and the people his father had grown to love so much.

Perhaps that love would be big enough for him to also be able to feel what it was that his father felt whenever the king would look at Camelot and his subjects.

Though as much as being praised as a good ‘son’ and ‘prince’ was nice, the blue hedgehog was a quick learner, and he was quick to understand that his teachers and peers were all incapable of wrapping their heads around how he was a quick learner and had underestimated how quick he was at learning.

It was the root reason why he started sneaking away to skip these lessons that he did not need.

As he grew up, his father became more busy, and it got to the point that the only times Arthur would get to see him was when he sneaked into those meetings his father often held with his advisors and a select few people. His father was always inspiring and wise; Arthur wanted to be just like him, if not better.

An idea came to mind as he was sitting in on yet another of his father's meetings, safely hidden from sight so he wouldn't be told to leave.

A group of knights he could lean on and trust.

To have several knights that he could count on for both protection and advice would be able to give him more time to do more things. Perhaps he could avoid the biggest issue with his father's rule which was a lack of time for himself with his hands full of a king's responsibilities.

So Arthur started ‘scouting’.

He had considered looking for possible candidates in the friends and acquaintances that he had made, but decided against it once he realized perhaps it was best that his chosen knights would have no ties to other nobles to ensure loyalty of some sort - with an exception for the silver hedgehog who Arthur had taken quite a liking to. (Galahad was his name, and he was nice. He didn't seem bothered that Arthur was a bit of the ‘lack of reactions and emotions’ kind of hedgehog like the others were.

The silver hedgehog was quite close to a purple cat that Arthur often saw tagging along with him. Perhaps he should consider her, too.)

Arthur was unsure of how many knights he should have with him. He was sure that it should be only a small group of people, as any larger would risk possible issues such as divisions and rifts among the knights and possible cases of betrayal and disloyalty that came hand in hand.

He planned as he went, and when he had four candidates in mind, he found himself thinking that four was indeed a nice number.

The prince wandered the streets in his cloak, making sure to not draw attention to himself as he had sneaked out to get a moment of peace of mind to himself, trying to figure out the best step to proceed with.

However, so deep in thought, he hadn't noticed the black hedgehog who was running towards him, seeming to be running away from something or someone who was chasing him.

When they bumped into each other, Arthur gasped, almost tumbling down onto the ground before the black hedgehog swiftly grabbed his wrist and pulled, the prince finding himself surprised at the black hedgehog’s strength before all too suddenly Arthur found himself being dragged by the black hedgehog, too.

“The guards are coming! We have to hide!” the black hedgehog claimed, swiftly walking through the crowd and dragging Arthur along with him.

For a moment, Arthur wondered if the black hedgehog had somehow miraculously found out his true identity, but he came to realize what was going on when he noticed the bag full of fruits that the black hedgehog had on him.

The cloak Arthur was wearing had looked worn out as he had used it for years. He wouldn't be surprised if the black hedgehog with him thought that the prince was someone running away from the guards too just because he judged him by his cloak.

A bit presumptuous, but Arthur was curious and impressed.

They managed to sneak into a narrow alley and lost the guard, and Arthur could safely say that he had been nothing but a burden to the black hedgehog, and that the only reason they were left untouched was purely because of the black hedgehog’s quick thinking and fast legs.

Intriguing.

The alley was dark, and everything had happened in such a rush that he wasn't able to get a proper look at the black hedgehog ‘who had saved his life’.

The black hedgehog didn't let even a moment of silence pass before he spoke, face cast downwards as he rummaged through his bag, seeming to be checking the content of the bag for whether all stolen items were still in it or not.

(His voice was calming.)

“I'm sorry for dragging you here with me. It's just- I was… ‘running errands’ for my… family, and the guards gave chase, and when I saw you with that cloak that obviously stood out, I could not leave you alone. The guards were bound to notice that you are trying to conceal your identity with your cloak and would arrest you.”

Running errands for his family…

Arthur remained silent, preferring to observe the black hedgehog who was finishing up checking the contents of the bag. In the meantime, Arthur took notice of some words that were engraved on the bag, almost unnoticeable, and found himself reading out loud unconsciously.

“‘Maria’...?”

In an instant, the black hedgehog froze, before a second later he looked up, and ruby red eyes locked onto Arthur's emerald green ones.

The prince's first thought was how ethereal the black hedgehog had looked.

“You know Maria?!” the black hedgehog exclaimed, completely oblivious to how just the sight of him was rendering Arthur speechless, the prince's usually calm heart beating frantically in his chest as he found himself unable to tear his eyes off the hedgehog in front of him.

“I should have known Maria would know you. She knows everyone!” the black hedgehog groaned, face-palming and allowing Arthur a moment to breathe when he had covered his face from the prince's eyes.

The blue hedgehog’s train of thought was cut short once again when all of a sudden his hands were gathered into a hold, and Arthur blinked rapidly in surprise at the black hedgehog whose gaze was a bit too intense for Arthur's suddenly fast-beating heart.

“Please don't tell Maria I stole these. The bookstore's sales are not doing all too well, and I can't allow Maria and professor to starve.” the black hedgehog pleaded, once again not even allowing the blue hedgehog to get a word in when the black hedgehog took note of the setting sun, letting go of Arthur's hands and standing up in a haste.

“I promise I will stop stealing once the sales are up again, but for now, this is my only alternative.” the black hedgehog said, slinging his bag on his shoulder and already making his way to leave all too soon, to the prince's disappointment.

Arthur was about to open his mouth to say something, but the black hedgehog turned to look at him once again, and the blue hedgehog’s whole body locked up once again, transfixed.

“I am sure Maria had told you this, but I am Lancelot. Pleasure meeting with you.

Please don't tell Maria I stole these.”

With those words, in a blink of an eye later, Lancelot was no longer standing in front of Arthur, and the blue hedgehog was left reeling with a mix of emotions he had never felt before in his life.

Emotions.

Feelings.

Distractedly, Arthur thought:

‘He is the one.’

When he returned to the palace and asked his father if it was possible for them to bring in new books, a ton of them, his father looked at him in wonder and asked whether the books in the palace library were not enough.

Arthur was not sure how to explain without leaving behind the detail that perhaps he had found the one who held the key to unlock his heart.

“I just… would like to read for myself the books the people love to read? You know; considering the choices of literature in our palace often differ from the ones sold in the city.”

Despite the initial suspicion, his father obliged, and only a few days later, his father returned and asked for his presence in his study.

“You have a wonderful eye, son. Professor Gerald is an intelligent man with a great plethora choices of books on his shelves, waiting to be sold. It is good that you brought him to my attention. Had we not bought those books, the professor’s business would have met its end.

I do not mean to pry considering how I know how much you value your freedom and such, but was your request to buy those books related to how you were spotted ‘stalking’ the professor’s grandson home?” The king started proud, but in the end his words held a teasing lilt to them before Arthur realized that his father had somehow read him all too easily.

Blue quills bristled, anxious, and Arthur sputtered as he avoided his father’s gaze, warmth seeping onto his face as he resolutely stared at the king’s desk instead of at the king’s face.

“I would not really call it ‘stalking’, father. I was just… making sure that he arrives home safely.”

“And did you not report the grandson’s stealing to the nearby guards because you want to keep him safe, too?” his father inquired, easily cornering his son into simply admitting the truth.

With an embarrassed groan, Arthur admitted that he felt as if Lancelot was the one. He described the feelings he felt, and throughout it all, instead of feeling upset at his son’s dishonesty, the king listened with an understanding smile.

“I am happy that you have found ‘the one’, but stalking him would do you no good. If he was to find out, he would steer clear of you in the future, son.”

“He would not find out.” Arthur confidently said, pursing his lips and chuckling awkwardly when his father raised an eye ridge at his words.

“Are you planning to stalk him?” his father questioned, disapproving and prompting Arthur to immediately negotiate, properly looking at his father and sputtering.

“It’s- it is not stalking. You see, I am on a mission to scout for possible knight candidates to have with me once I rise to the throne. Knights who I can trust for both protection and advice. Lancelot just so happened to be one of them - but before I would proceed, I have to see for myself who they are to ensure that I do not choose the wrong ones by my side and to provide aid for me.”

Putting aside how he was sputtering at the beginning of his sentence, by the end of it, he was confident that he had impressed his father, and the king would surely continue to let him do as he pleased. (Not ‘stalking’. Scouting.)

As expected, his father allowed him to wander as he pleased, even though Arthur knew more guards were dispatched in the city after this talk as it was his father’s way of ensuring his safety if danger was to breach, and he took full advantage of his ‘freedom’ to scout.

Lancelot was as enrapturing as the first day they met.

Arthur was not sure what it was that drew him to the black hedgehog. Perhaps it was the red that lined the black hedgehog’s eyes that never failed to make his gaze more intense and almost enchanting, or perhaps it was the different way he treated his family - with the softest smiles and the gentlest touch - and not family - with an aloofness and elusiveness that always never failed to capture the prince’s attention.

Every time he saw the black hedgehog, the heart in his chest felt alive, and Arthur wanted to forever feel.

To be able to forever feel, he needed Lancelot by his side.

Even without practice and training, Lancelot’s physical capabilities were already impressive by themselves, and it became Arthur’s reason to continue the lessons set for him, no longer skipping as often as he used to.

His teacher and the royal guards were elated by the change, and despite being obviously curious over what it was that changed their prince’s mind, they never crossed the line and tried to pry the reason off the blue hedgehog.

To be able to have the black hedgehog by his side, he had to be better than the black hedgehog. Lancelot was known to be competitive and sometimes prone to resorting to violence and fights, for example when he heard people badmouthing his family. So Arthur had to be better than Lancelot to keep winning, and so the black hedgehog would always instinctively chase after him due to his competitive nature.

By the time Arthur was confident in his skills, he finally approached the black hedgehog, asking for the royal guards to play along with him as he put on his cloak and ran into the bookstore, heart almost leaping out of his chest when he met gazes with the black hedgehog.

Talking to Lancelot in that bookstore felt surreal. It was everything he could dream of.

To ensure that he would not scare the black hedgehog away, Arthur had decided to play the act of a simple citizen rather than approaching the other as the prince of Camelot. After all; where was the fun in that?

Patiently, even if Lancelot didn’t join along with the other knights that would form the Knights of the Round Table, Arthur waited.

Gawain was strong and exceptional. Jet was quick and amusingly sarcastic. Percival was calm and impressive. Galahad was patient and careful.

Most of all; they were curious.

They knew that the prince had plans for them, that the prince was waiting for someone, but Arthur kept his lips sealed, and dodged their questions with the excuse that ‘he didn’t want to jinx his plans by telling them’.

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

When he first saw Lancelot standing on the training grounds, he thought he would die.

Lancelot was so close. Close to him.

Close to stay by Arthur’s side.

There was not a dull moment with the black hedgehog. Even if Lancelot’s guards were up and he was infuriatingly more close off than Arthur had remembered because of the deaths of his family, the prince understood, and was patient.

Only when Arthur had bumped into Lancelot at the cemetery - could Arthur really call it ‘bumping into the other’ as a coincidence when he had planned for it to happen? - did the black hedgehog, for a moment, drop his unbothered facade and, for the first time, accept the comfort Arthur happily provided him.

Arthur thought he would forever keep Lancelot in his arms if it meant to be able to feel so alive.

Once Arthur had risen to the throne, he got to do as he wished and pleased; he got to have Lancelot all to himself, every hour of the day.

Despite how the knight would complain about the show of favoritism, Arthur had gotten to know of the black hedgehog all too well; he knew all too well of the bashful smiles Lancelot tried to hide, and the every time his heart would skip a beat for his king.

Knowledge was indeed power. Arthur had never felt more powerful than whenever he could read Lancelot like a book.

He was so taken by the black hedgehog, but he was not aware himself to what extent did his affection for his knight was until the attack at the ballroom hall - the attack which he found later was an attempt to assassinate Lancelot as a way to threaten the king.

Lancelot was harmed, but Arthur felt almost as if it was he who had died.

The ones who led the attack were interrogated by himself and himself alone, and only when the blue hedgehog’s usually pristine white gloves were stained and dripping with blood that didn’t belong to him, did he realize that perhaps it was more than just affection that he felt for his knight.

‘Obsession’.

(But was it so wrong to be obsessed with something that is his?)

Before his father died, he had warned his son of ‘obsession’: his father had warned him to keep his affection for the black hedgehog to be pure and respectful, to understand that the black hedgehog was as much a person as he was.

But this was not an obsession, was it? (Lancelot belonged to him, was he not?)

When Lancelot started acting distant, Arthur, for once, felt fear.

Carefully, he approached the black hedgehog and coaxed him to not change. His heart had been alive then, but it was suffocating and unlike the way Lancelot usually made him feel.

Lancelot had to stay.

Even if they had shared a kiss, even if Arthur could feel that Lancelot was back to where he belonged, his heart stirred unpleasantly, thoughts plagued by the possibility of his knight ever choosing to leave his side.

He had to keep the other close. He had to tie them together.

As he ventured through the forest, as he bumped into Merlina in an odd stroke of coincidence, and as he was gifted the scabbard of Excalibur by the Lady of the Lake for his just and peaceful rule of Camelot, Arthur found his solution.

Magic.

The moment he considered that into the equation, he found nothing but solutions.

(Perhaps it was in that instance did everything shifted forever.)

So much time was spent studying and understanding magic. So much time had to be spent away from Lancelot because he had to be able to be exceptional in wielding magic before he could show his face to his knight.

He needed to be perfect in Lancelot’s eyes, just as Lancelot was in his.

When he managed to master enough spells, he searched for his knight to share the good news, but when he saw the black hedgehog alone with a certain red echidna, his blood grew cold, and his heart painfully beat.

Why was his Lancelot alone with the echidna?

Overwhelmed with the need to take and hide Lancelot away, Arthur came to realize that he was acting unusually peculiar when all was done: when his knight’s palm had bled, and when Lancelot looked up to him with a complicated mix of emotions - yet the only emotion the king could see was reverence and adoration.

Lancelot did not mind his peculiarities - because of course the king’s feeling for the other was returned.

There was nothing to be afraid of. Lancelot would never leave him.

He would not be able to, try as he might.

Despite being so sure that his knight would never leave him, he found jealousy rearing its ugly head far too often whenever his knight as much as interacted with others far too closely.

Something was changing inside of him. Sometimes Arthur did not feel at all like himself.

One moment he was approaching Percival and Lancelot to greet the two knights patrolling, and the next time he felt conscious, the rabbit who was smiling too widely at the black hedgehog and had caused the king to feel ire was no longer around.

There were signs of magic having lingered after it was used, and Arthur wondered if the disappearance of the rabbit had anything to do with it. (Was the magic his after all?)

He told Lancelot about studying magic. He started keeping the black hedgehog close to him every second of the day once again.

Sometimes he felt lucid, sometimes he felt delirious.

Whichever it was, Lancelot was always there for him.

Except in his last moments.

When Arthur first laid eyes on the blue hedgehog that Merlina had summoned, he was furious. It was as if the wizard was taunting him; as if she was calling ‘the person he had become’ a failure and unlike his younger self who was admired and treasured by many.

He met up with the Knights of the Round Table to give them the orders to slay the wizard and the blue hedgehog on sight, and only then, as his eyes landed on the black hedgehog he no longer spent every second of his day with, did the furious fire burning in his heart significantly burned dimmer.

(What if the hedgehog took Lancelot away from him?)

For a moment ever since Arthur had drowned himself in searching for the wizard, he found himself faltering.

Perhaps it would be best to abandon everything. Perhaps it would be best to steal Lancelot away and hid far, far away, where no one would find them and try to take them away from each other.

However, these faltering thoughts were shut down as his heart slowed, and Arthur came to suddenly realize how in tune he was with magic.

But it was all too late.

By the time Arthur was allowed consciousness, allowed control of the body lent to him, he was already defeated, and he came to realize that his very being was an illusion.

It was no wonder that his own father never cared for who his wife was. It was no wonder that the two of them could not feel anything in their heart - except after they found their ‘purpose’.

Arthur’s purpose was Lancelot, and yet it was not for that purpose did he exhaled his last breath.

Tearing apart at the seams, treasured and cherished memories in the past surfaced from the back of his mind, playing out like a story in front of him and leaving him, causing a sense of panic deep in Arthur’s chest as he tried to grasp each memory with his hands, yet to no avail.

All he could do was try, and fail.

He could feel the sensation of crying in his eyes, yet he could feel no tears wetting his face. His vision was somehow both blurry and clear, and all that he could see was Lancelot.

He had failed his knight.

He had failed his Lancelot.

Not once did he ever utter those three words to the knight, so blinded with the need to hunt down the wizard who had betrayed him.

Regret. Remorse.

Emotions unlike he had ever felt came building in his heart, suffocating him as his mistakes all played by in front of him, tormenting and taunting him.

Obsessions. His father had warned him, but he didn’t listen.

His last memory that played was that of a morning when Arthur found himself at Lancelot’s chambers, the black hedgehog deep asleep after having continued on his search for Lamorak and Galahad without informing the blue hedgehog - even if the king had specifically said that they are to cease their search for the missing Knights of the Round Table.

Arthur was arrogant, then. He dearly missed embracing the black hedgehog, yet he no longer asked to join the other hedgehog in bed just as he used to do before.

Instead, he sneaked into the black hedgehog’s room, and would quietly join the other in his bed, breath always taken away when the knight naturally shifted and adjusted his position to allow the king more space, beckoning the king close even in sleep.

Always so ready to provide assistance. Always so ready to provide comfort.

Once close, the sleeping knight would seamlessly wrap his arms around his king, and every single time, a single tear would slip past Arthur’s eye, the deep asleep black hedgehog completely unaware of how much serenity he brought the king just by being there.

Arthur regrets.

“I’m sorry.” he could hear his voice saying, even if he could no longer speak.

There was no time to even give the black hedgehog a proper goodbye or apology. There was no time to drown in ruby-red eyes any longer.

I’m sorry.

[Thank you.]

I’m sorry.

[Will we ever meet again?]

I’m sorry.

[I miss you already.]

I’m sorry.

[I love you, Lancelot.]

Too late. He was too late.

Heart heavy with regret, remorse, and overwhelming love he had neglected and taken lightly of for far too long, Arthur mustered up his remaining energy into a breeze - a breeze that would be there to comfort his knight once he would cease to exist, returning to being a part of magic.

This was his punishment.

(But why did Lancelot have to bear his punishment, too?)

The three words were chanted desperately, again and again, as if doing so would somehow relay the message he so desperately needed the black hedgehog he had always called his to hear.

[I love you.]

‘I love you.’

“I love you.”

A whisper, then.

Please listen to the wind, my Lancelot.

***