Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The leaves fell as autumn crept into the city of Camelot. The grass was dry and covered with leaves, making each step crispy. It hadn’t rained in a few weeks. Some people predicted a disaster or the end of the world, but that was a bit overdramatic to say the least. It was normal for Camelot to get droughts every now and then, just not for as many weeks as it’s been and as many more to come according to the meteorologist.

A young black hedgehog with red highlights looked out the window of his house far from Camelot. It was still in Camelot territory, but not enough to count as “protected by the Camelot Kingdom”. It was ridiculous, truly, but it was only place they could afford. They weren’t as wealthy as most who lived in Camelot. They were rather poor actually.

His big sister, Maria, came and sat beside him, looking out the window with him. She tried to follow his eyes to what he was staring at, but the only thing her eyes focused on with the big castle of Camelot in the distance. She smiled softly, placing a soft hand against the window. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

The red and black hedgehog looked over at her, tilting his head to the side slightly. Maria let out a small laugh before pointing at the castle in the distance. The hedgehog looked over and followed her finger, seeing the big castle. “The castle, Shadow! It’s magnificent... Beautiful...” she muttered with a smile. “I’d do anything to be able to see it up close...”

Shadow looked over at her with a look of sympathy. He was going to say something, anything to maybe comfort or assure her, but he was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Shadow! Maria!” Called their grandfather. They both turned to look at him, spotting him standing by the now-open front door. “It’s a nice day out. Why not go enjoy it?” He said with a fake smile. “Plus, I have something for you, Shadow.” He walked out of the house, leaving the door open for them to follow.

Maria was first to jump up and run out in her socks. None of them owned shoes. Other than their grandfather. Maria wore a pretty blue ripped dress that covered her comfortably, and fluffy pink socks with white polka dots. While Shadow on the other hand wore a brown-beige shirt, same-colored socks that were ripped all over, showing his damaged paws, and white, dirty gloves with his inhibitor rings on his arms and legs.

Shadow stood up, swiping his hands over his forehead in an attempt to cover his small horns with his quills. After doing so, he followed his big sister out of the house and to the huge grassy yard where their grandfather was waiting. The black and red hedgehog approached his grandfather with a curious glint in his eyes. “Grandfather?” He called out gently, waiting to get his attention before speaking again. “You said you had something for me?”

Gerald, their grandfather, with a smile on his face, kneeled down in front of the young hedgehog. “Why yes, indeed, Shadow. I’ve made something to help you protect us.” He spoke.

Shadow tilted his head, his ears twitching slightly. “Something for me to help...protect us?”

“Correct!” Gerald’s hands were behind his back, obviously holding something. Likely the object or thing meant for the hedgehog. Maria watched intently from behind Shadow, both curious and excited. “Hold your hands out, Shadow.” Gerald ordered.

Shadow did as told, holding out his gloved hands for the surprise Gerald were to hand him.

Gerald pulled out the item from behind his back, placing it in the young hedgehog’s hands. It was a sword. Maria’s eyes widened and narrowed at the sight of it, while Shadow only looked at it with great confusion.

"Grandfather! Why give him a sword? Camelot knights need to be thirteen to wield a sword. Shadow is only seven; he can't hold one yet!" Maria protested, both confused and worried for her little brother.

Gerald stood up, looking straight at Maria. “Camelot doesn’t care about us. How many times must I remind you of this? They protect the ‘important’ parts of their city and leave the poor parts like ours to rot and decay.” He explained harshly. “Do you want us all to die, Maria?”

Maria was immediate to shake her head, her body tensing at the thought. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want anyone to die. She watched as Gerald turned his attention back to Shadow who was looking at the sword with curiosity and confusion.

"Shadow, I will instruct you on how to use this sword effectively so that you can become a proficient fighter and safeguard our family.” He seized his handmade sword and swiftly sliced through the air, halting in front of the young hedgehog. "Surely Maria has taught you some basics about swords—using them, where to strike, and so on." Maria had always been fascinated by Camelot, even though her grandfather taught her otherwise. She did constant research with books of Camelot’s history and present. Gerald was never fond of it, but he didn’t bother to stop her. She’d find out the truth one way or another.

From that day forward, Gerald devoted himself to teaching Shadow the art of swordsmanship. Every morning, their training sessions began with the fundamentals of footwork, balance, and grip. Although Shadow faced some difficulty, his determination never wavered. He observed Gerald intently, precisely copying each move.

Weeks passed, and Shadow's progress became noticeable. His movements became fluid, combining strength with grace and agility. Shadow could perform complex maneuvers with remarkable speed and precision. Every swing of the sword illustrated not only skill but also a deep understanding of the weapon.

Gerald watched this development with mixed feelings. While he was impressed by Shadow's quick improvement, it also disturbed him. He hadn't expected Shadow to learn so rapidly or become so adept. As Shadow's capabilities exceeded his expectations, his attitude became ominous. He wasn’t smiling wide and fake anymore or making little jokes here and there. No, he was silent and watchful of the young hedgehog. Almost like he was waiting.

Shadow used his skills with the sword to protect his big sister, Maria, against all odds. Their bullies from before wouldn’t come near them anymore after the last time...

...

Maria and Shadow were sitting in a nearby flower field, close to their house. Gerald was out grabbing food and supplies, leaving the two of them alone. Shadow had his handmade sword beside him, hidden from view. They were minding their business like always, just mindlessly plucking flowers and making bracelets and crowns out of them.

Suddenly, a young wolf grabbed Maria firmly by the wrist. She let out a shocked yelp, dropping her half-made flower bracelet and looking up at the young wolf mobian. Shadow growled upon seeing him, recognizing him as one of their bullies. He swiftly hid his horns with his quills or at least tried his best too. Then he started looking around. If he was here, the other was likely someone nearby...

A young lizard mobian abruptly grabbed Shadow from behind, gripping the fur on his chest firmly, causing Shadow to hiss in pain. He didn’t like his fur being pulled, let alone touched. He struggled against the lizards grip, finding it difficult to break free from his grasp.

“Look at you... So pathetic! Can’t even protect your own sister!” The wolf spat with a grin. He traced Maria’s arm with his claw, earning a growl and glare from Shadow. His claw was getting uneasily closer to her skin, making the hedgehog eager to protect his big sister. “What’s the matter?” The wolf pouted. “Afraid I might hurt her?”

“Get your claws away from her…” Shadow growled, baring his fangs in an attempt to scare them off, but they only laughed.

“You think your fake fangs will scare us, freak? Unlike you, we have real fangs and claws. And we know how to bite...” The wolf barked out a laugh. They never believed his fangs were real. Or his horns and his claws. They were all very real, but he was too scared to use them. To become what people, call a monster...

The lizard hissed and grinned at the wolf, gesturing him to do something with the nod of his head. The wolf then sliced his claw into Maria’s arm, making her let out a scream of pain, whimpering and shaking as she sat there helplessly.

Shadow watched with now-rage-filled eyes. His mind was rushing with ideas of how he could break free and protect his sister from farther harm. Then an idea came to him. He slammed his head back, hitting the lizard with his extended quills. The lizard let go and yelled out in pain, gripping his shoulder and neck where the quills stuck. Shadow then swooped down and grabbed his handmade sword before looking back up at the wolf with rage.

The wolf nervously laughed. “Wh-what’re you going to do with that, huh? Threaten me? Like hell you’d actually use it—”

The wolf was interrupted by Shadow lunging forward, swinging the sword at his arm and striking him. The wolf yelled out, holding his now-bleeding arm and stumbling backwards, dropping Maria. “You… You freakshow!” He growled. “I hope you know I’ll be telling everyone about this! You’ll get exiled, you bastard!”

Shadow watched as the two bullies retreated, running back to their homes down in the better parts of Camelot. Once out of sight, Shadow turned to his big sister, kneeling beside her and dropping his sword. He grabbed her arm and gently inspected it.

Maria sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand, watching as her little brother aided her arm. He pulled back and ripped off a part of his shirt, wrapping it tightly around Maria’s wound and kissing it comfortingly, making her smile.

“We should head back home... Grandfather is probably there waiting for us.” Shadow said, grabbing his sword and holding out a hand for Maria to grab, but she didn’t grab it, instead, she placed a daisy in it. Shadow looked at it with eyes full of confusion.

“I was making you a bracelet originally... but I guess I’ll have to do it another day!” Maria chuckled, folding his fingers over the flower. “Daisies are beautiful...like you... You need to accept that and see beauty in yourself, not just your flaws and differences.”

Shadow looked down at his folded fingers, unfolding them to see the daisy. He then looked back at Maria. “Where...do I put it?”

“Anywhere! In your quills, on your shirt, anywhere at all!” Maria said, noticing the remaining confusion in Shadow’s eyes. She chuckled and grabbed the daisy from him, pricking in through his shirt and propping it so it stays put. She stood up with a smile. “There! Now let’s go back to grandfather!” She grabbed his hand without waiting for a response and started running towards home.

...

Maria and Shadow laid beside each other in the grass, flowers surrounding them. Shadow didn’t bring his sword with him this time, as requested by his grandfather who was preparing for a short trip. Maria pointed up at the cloud-filled sky. “Look Shadow! That cloud looks like a rabbit!”

Shadow followed her finger to the rabbit-shaped cloud and smiled. “It does…”

Maria’s smile faltered and she sat up, looking down. Shadow sat up, concern in his eyes. “I wish grandfather allowed us to visit Camelot… I’ve heard they have rabbits around that area…” She mumbled. “Do you think we’ll ever be allowed to visit?” She looked over at Shadow who stared back at her with sympathetic eyes.

“I’m...not sure, Maria... Grandfather says they’re ruthless and bad... That they only care about themselves and not us.”

“Yes...I know...but I like to hope grandfather’s being dramatic, you know?” Shadow nodded. “I heard it’s a pretty place... There’s knights, a king and queen... They recently had a son, the soon-to-be prince...” Maria looked towards the large kingdom in the faraway distance. “It’s beautiful...and the knight’s there are the best of the best! They only hired the one’s who they felt were worthy! Isn’t that crazy?” Shadow nodded. “I also heard their names are fancy and neat...” she looked at Shadow. “What do you think my name would be if I were princess or queen?”

Shadow thought for a minute, unsure. “I think it’d still be Maria because you are a princess. Just not of Camelot.” He spoke.

Maria smiled and hugged him. “You’re so sweet, Shadow... I don’t know how anyone could say otherwise...” She pulled back and patted his head, earning a smile from him. “I think you’d be a handsome knight, Shadow...”

Shadow tilted his head. “Do knights have fancy names?”

“Yep! The one’s I’ve heard of at least... The two knights of the Round Table are Percival and Gawain. Those are pretty fancy, aren’t they?” Shadow nodded. “But...if I had to ever guess what you’d be called in another lifetime... Let’s see...” Maria sat for a while, thinking of the perfect name. Eventually, it came to her. “Lancelot.”

“Lancelot...? What’s that mean?” Shadow asked.

Maria smiled. “It means bravery and honor! I think it fits you perfectly!” she ruffled his shoulder fur, making him laugh softly. They both laid back down on the soft grass.

“Lancelot... I like that name...”

“Shadow! Maria!” Their grandfather called out. They both got up and ran to him.

“Yes, grandfather?” Maria asked. Shadow held her hand, standing beside her. He looked up at their grandfather, waiting for a response beside her.

“It’s time to head out!” He spoke. “I’ve gathered the supplies for the picnic near the river.” He held out a hand for Maria to grab, which she did with her free hand.

“Should I grab my sword, grandfather?” Shadow asked, seeming worried.

Gerald shook his head. “No need, Shadow. Nothing’s going to happen! I’ve already walked there and back. No one’s near this part of the woods but us.” He assured him, earning a hesitant nod from the hedgehog. “Excellent! Now, come this way!” He began walking through the forest, to the spot he had set up for their picnic. There was already a blanket spread across the grass with food laid across it. It wasn’t much, only a few fruits, veggies, and meat. But it was a treat they didn’t get to have much.

They all sat and began eating, laughing, and talking like nothing mattered. Time went by, and suddenly Gerald stood. He went to stand closer to the lake. “Maria? Would you like to stand with me?” He asked. Maria nodded and jumped up, running to his side. She looked out at the sparkling crystal water, smiling. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, grandfather... Almost as beautiful as Camelot itself...” She replied, earning a smirk from Gerald. He rested a hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer.

“You know I love you, right Maria?”

“Of course, grandfather! I love you too! And Shadow!”

“That’s good...” He put his hand in his bag he had brought. Shadow watched with confusion, but ease. He trusted his grandfather as he had been raised to do. Gerald pulled out something long and thin that neither of them noticed. “You know, Maria...I never raised you to like Camelot or to find it as you do...”

Maria looked to him, confused. “Well...I just think it’s really neat and pretty! All its history and—”

“It doesn’t care for anyone but the wealthy.” Gerald said sternly. Maria’s smile faltered. “The king is nothing but complete trash fire. His son is bound to grow to be like him. They don’t care for anyone but themselves...” He trailed off, putting the object to her back. The way they were positioned, Shadow couldn’t see. “I hope you reincarnate to know better...”

Maria looked to him out of surprise. “Excuse me—” Maria let out a piercing scream as Gerald stabbed the object through her. A sword. Right through her chest. Shadow jumped up upon hearing the scream, his eyes widening and ears flattening in horror.

“MARIA!?” He screamed, running to her as Gerald pulled the sword out and let her fall lifelessly to the ground. Shadow collapsed beside her, tears screaming down his face as he desperately took his shirt out to try and stop the bleeding. But it was too late. She was gone.

He sobbed and coughed, eyes stinging from the tears that left them. “No… no no no no NO! PLEASE!?” He pleaded. “Maria! Don’t leave me! I can’t live without you!” He leaned down and nuzzled into her neck, shaking with sobs.

Gerald watched with a twisted grin. “You should now know not to trust them.” He spat. Shadow stopped sobbing and looked up at him shakily. Gerald was startled by the rage in his eyes. By the fangs and horns that were now noticeable. By the blood on his fur and gloves.

“You...” He shakily stood up, stumbling and looking straight at him. His blood-red eyes were tear-filled and rage-filled. Anger rushed through him as he approached his grandpa. “You monster...” He growled, extending his claws. “She was a CHILD!? I’M A CHILD!? AND YOU KILLED HER, YOU FUCKER!?” He lunged at his grandfather, claws extended. Gerald had no time to react before Shadow’s claws dug themselves into his throat, killing him. He wasn’t satisfied though. He wanting to tear him apart. He wanted to stabbed him like he had stabbed his sister. So, he grabbed the sword Gerald used to kill Maria and stabbed him repeatedly with it, until his arms grew weak and tired.

Shadow stood up and threw the sword in the lake, tainting the spot red momentarily. “You’ll die over and over again in every lifetime... You’ll never find peace... You’ll never find love... And I’ll make sure I’m always the last face you see until the end of time.” With that, he pushed his grandfather into the moving river, the water tainting.

He panted, propping himself momentarily against a tree. His chest fur was red. His gloves were red. He grunted and ripped them off, along with his socks, and threw them in the lake as well. “I’ll never forgive you...” He sobbed, falling to his knees beside his dead sister once again. He laid beside her, snuggling up beside her lifeless body one last time. She’d only been dead for a few minutes, and it’s already felt like hours...days...years...

Shadow blamed himself. If he had only noticed... If he had only disobeyed and brought his sword... If he had only run away from her and never trusted him in the first place... They’d be alive and free...

He nuzzled his face into his sister’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around her and sobbing. He stayed like that for hours. Until his eyes became sore and unable to produce more tears. He stood up shakily, looking down at his sister. “You didn’t deserve to die... You deserved to see Camelot up close... To live free and happily... To have a family and people to love... To have a place to call home...” He leaned down and started to dig out a hole with his bare hands. “And you certainly don’t deserve to rot in the open… I’ll bury you with flowers…”

After some hours, the hole was finished. He gently dragged his sister’s body into it, making sure she looking comfortable. He wept some more, throwing some flowers around her and putting some in her beautiful hair, before pushing all the dirt back on her, burying her.

...

Years went by and Shadow was so much different. He went by Lancelot now, abandoning the name Shadow and its past. He devoted himself to the sword, training daily until he grew sore and fell, unable to train more. He had killed his and Maria’s bullies to avenge her downfall, and had mover closer to Camelot, but far from the villages. He lived in an old, empty cave. The only thing to eat with occasional fruits from trees and bread he could sneak from shops. Dirt was always free though. And the deer he killed and cooked over a campfire or ate raw.

He bathed himself in a nearby pond nightly, but refused to look in the reflection, knowing he’d only see a monster.

Maria would be ashamed of him… But he was too broken to care…

Chapter Text

Years have gone by since the incident. Slow, long years. It was never easy living alone in a cave with barely anything to survive on. He never imagined it’d be. But he was prepared to suffer. With the loss of his sister and nothing but fish, bugs, and dirt to eat, there really wasn’t anything more he could lose. He accepted death with open arms if it came to him. But he wouldn’t just give up. He’d fight and make himself known before death told hold of him. He wasn’t going to put his years of consistent training behind him just to give up.

Lancelot observed the entrance of the cave from his position on the dusty ground. The rain was coming down heavily, with strong winds driving it several feet inside. Thunder occasionally echoed from all directions, accompanied by lightning strikes that produced faint crackling sounds.

In front of the ebony black and red hedgehog was a makeshift campfire he made. The fire crackled and glowed, giving the cave a sense of illumination. But no amount of light could ever cure the darkness he felt eating away at him. The darkness he was afraid his grandfather had left behind and passed down to him. The one bound to one day consume him. He hoped he’d die before then.

Today was a day Lancelot dreaded. One he never liked to celebrate. Tonight was his fourteenth birthday. He’d gone seven years without his big sister, living in a cave living off dirt and bugs at times.
Lancelot stood tall from his spot on the cave floor, making his way slowly towards the cave entrance. Tonight, he wished was the night he could make himself known; with his sword rose high and blood splattered across the battlefield and him, as he’d finally lay down to rest. Maybe then he could finally see his sister again. Her bright smile… Her sapphire eyes… Maybe then he’d have something to live for once again…

The hedgehog sighed and turned his back to the outside, looking back at the poorly-made campfire. He was starving. He’d decided to take a break from hunting, doubting the consequences. He didn’t want to hunt in the rain, knowing the only food he’d get out of it was cold fish and possibly only soggy dirt. He hated both of those options. The dirt was bitter and disgusting, and the fish was salty and tasted only of lake water. None of it was appetizing.

The ebony hedgehog grasped his newly handmade sword and exited the cave. He winced when he felt the rain instantly soak into his quills, making him shiver. It was colder than he liked, but he pushed through it. He sliced his sword through the thorn-covered bushed, pushing the thorns out of his way so he could step through. He liked his new sword better than the old one he threw out along with the house. He still remembered the thrilling and sorrowful memory of watching the house he grew up in, burn to the ground, along with everything inside.

As Lancelot walked through the eerily quiet forest, he came across the pond he usually bathed in. He hadn’t taken a bath in a while, so he was definitely due for one. But he didn’t want to take one now with how cold it was. Plus, the rain was doing more than enough to clean his fur. He’d bathe himself later.

He looked down at the pond, observing for any signs of movement indicating the presence of living things. When he spotted something, he slamming his sword into the water in hopes to stab through it. But instead, he lost balance and fell in. The cold water was definitely not pleasant. Lancelot inhaled a breath of air when bringing his head above the surface. He panted and shivered, his teeth baring, showing his fangs. He looked around for his prey with his blood red eyes, a hungry glint in them. When he spotted it again, he raised his sword and brought it down on it, this time catching it. He pulled his sword up, enough to see the dead fish.

"Well done on that capture." Said a female voice. Lancelot’s ears perked and his lips drew back, showing his teeth as he growled and looked around. His eyes landed on a pink hedgehog in a ballgown-style dress. He tilted his head, hiding his fangs. He was polite enough to not immediately attack a woman.

The pink hedgehog smiled. “It’s a bit cold out here to be taking a swim, don’t you think?” She asked him, earning a small growl. “Do you live around here? Surely there’s better food for you than some fish that could hold many diseases.”

“This is the best I can get.” Lancelot spat. “What do you want?”

“What do I want?” She repeated. “I was just wondering what exactly a skilled hunter like you was doing hunting a fish?” Her reasoning came off as more as a question than an answer.

Lancelot looked at the fish impaled on his sword, then back at her. “How do you know if I’m a skilled hunter?” he asked. “I simply caught a fish. That’s something you could likely succeed in doing.”

The lady smiled and nodded. “That’s true, yes. But not even I could hold a sword with such grace as you had. You moved so fluently. So agile. As if you had become one with the sword. Not even the knights at Camelot are as skilled as you.” She explained, placing her hands behind her back as she began to pace. “I’ve never seen someone so agile with the sword. Not even the king had that much grace and swiftness.”

“Okay, I get it! I’m somehow agile and special because I caught a fish with my sword.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got somewhere to be.” He began to swim to the edge of the pond, farthest away from her. He avoided looking down at the water, afraid of what he might see. A person? Doubtful. A monster? He was afraid…

The lady watched as Lancelot removed himself from the pond, his fur slick and wet, dripping with water as he stood on his shaky legs. “You may go back to your cave but be mindful.” She spoke. Lancelot was quick to turn around, his gaze questioning. But when he turned to see her, she was gone. Where did she go…? How did she know I lived in a cave…? He questioned himself, his fur standing a bit on end as he held his sword firmly, turning to walk back to the cave he called home.

The rain continued on for hours, not giving any indication of stopping. Lancelot was back to sitting near the fire, drying off and eating his fish. The blood dripped down his jaw, but not much. This fish wasn’t appetizing. It was filling though, and that’s all that mattered. Once he ate over half of the fish, he tossed it aside and wiped the remaining bits off his face with his hand. He then lay back, closing his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep and forget the events of the day. To forget his birthday in general. He didn’t like his birthday at all, especially since Maria’s death. He had no one else to consider or protect, only himself.

Just as he felt his body start to slowly drift off, a loud crash woke him up. He sat up abruptly and looked around, brows furrowing with concern. That wasn’t any regular crash he’d heard of before. Something was happening… and it sounded nearby.

Lancelot rose to his feet and grabbed his sword, holding it firmly in his grasp. He then approached the cave’s entrance, surveying the situation outside. His eyes widened upon seeing the unfolding disaster ahead. The kingdom that his sister had long desired to visit was under attack by what appeared to be another realm. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. Typically, he would refrain from intervening, accepting events as they unfolded. However, this particular kingdom held great significance for his sister; it was unique and cherished by her—a place she often dreamed about. Lancelot decided he could not merely remain passive with his extensive training and allow his sister's aspiration to be destroyed.

He may not have known Camelot as much as his sister did. The history or the people. But he did know that she admired it’s every piece. She’d talk for hours about the King and Queen. About the knights of the Round Table and the guards of the palace. The gardens that grew in the back, filled with various fruits and flowers. And a tree not far from the castle that was unlike any other.

He gripped his sword tight and hid his horns beneath his quills, before charging out of the cave and towards the battlegrounds. They were ways away from the castle, and Lancelot refused to stand aside and wait for them to ambush, especially with how Camelot was already losing.

Lancelot raised his sword high and clashed with a knight from the other realm. They were caught off guard, which gave Lance the upper hand, stabbing his sword through the knight and knocking them down. He pulled the blood-covered sword out of the lifeless carcass of the knight and turned to attack another. This one was paying attention though.

“Why so you interfere in this conflict? This matter concerns only us and Camelot, not an outsider,” the knight remarked, blocking Lancelot’s sword with his own. He had on a condescending smirk that Lancelot found deeply displeasing.

“I refuse to stand by and allow you to ruin my sister’s ambition,” Lancelot declared, swiftly lowering himself and striking through the knight’s armor with precision, thereby knocking them down. He raised his sword high and struck it down on them, holding it in place, until the knight went lifeless and limp after screaming. He pulled it out and looked around at the battlefield. He noticed knights fighting around him, with some noticing his kill and rushing to attack. But he was faster than them. Swifter than them. He dodged their every attempt and, with grace, moved his sword through the wind and into the knights, one by one.

One knight managed to get the upper hand momentarily, slashing their sword across Lancelot’s left eye. The ebony hedgehog yelled out and held a hand over it, blood streaming down his face and hand. He growled and slammed his sword into the knight, killing them within an instant. He panted, feeling the agonizing sting in his eye. But he ignored it and continued his bloodshed.

Armor clung and clang as it hit the ground. Yells and screams were heard as Lancelot tore through the knights who dared to ambush the kingdom. With one more knight down, a higher up he assumed with how they were acting, the other kingdom retreated and started to run back.

Lancelot panted but held his chest out and his head high. He looked around for any more knight’s trying to ambush, and his eyes landed on a green hedgehog, standing tall with a scowl on his face. He was staring directly at Lancelot.

“This is not over. If you believe you can enter battle, kill nearly half of my knights, and leave without consequences, you are mistaken.” Growled the hedgehog. “I will come back, and once I do, it won’t be only my brother’s head I’m looking for.”

Lancelot spat at them, panting heavily as he watched them retreat. He wiped some blood from his eye, hissing in pain as he touched the wound. He did it… He won and made himself known. Maybe not the best way to do it, but he was satisfied with it.

He turned to look at the remaining knights from Camelot. Some were injured and being helped, and others were staring at Lancelot in both awe and disgust.

“Who does he think he is?” Spoke one. “He can’t just barge into our battle and take the victory from us!” Said another. But most of them were grateful. “He’s magnificent with the sword!” Another smiled. “He’s more agile and fast then the Knights of the Round Table!”

Their words reached the ears of the king as some of the knights had already returned. Uther, King of Camelot, sat atop his throne, his Queen beside him. He looked stressed as he tapped his fingers against the armrest of his throne.

“My lord…” A knight spoke, kneeling in front of the king. “I have news brought from the battlefield.”

The king raised a brow. “Continue, Percival.” He demanded.

Percival nodded and continued. "I've been informed about an outsider killing off more than half of the other kingdom.” She explained.

The king raised his brows, surprised. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “The knights of the battlefield claim he’s more agile and graceful then the Knights of the Round Table.” She explained. “Even Cador retreated upon seeing his skill with the sword.”

The king pondered as the queen looked at the kneeling knight. "Bring him here. We wish to thank him for saving our kingdom."

Percival nodded and stood up, taking her leave and wandering out into the battlefield. She looked around for the hedgehog who helped save the kingdom and spotted him in a conflict with one of Camelot’s guards.

“You are absurd for charging into battle without orders!” Shouted the guard. “You could’ve died and put our lives in more risk!”

“At least I helped. Last I checked, as soon as I arrived, you stood back and watched instead of helping!” Lancelot barked back.

Percival approached both of them. "Gravdal, stand down," she said to the knight, then turned to Lancelot. "You, come with me. The king and queen wish to speak with you." She turned and began walking back to the palace, with Lancelot following behind her.

Lancelot was confused and hesitant. While some of the knights thanked him for his actions, some were hostile and angry. He wasn’t sure if the king and queen were bound to be the same. He followed the purple feline to the palace doors. The kingdom was much bigger up close. It made him feel uneasy. He didn’t belong here. Why was he here?

Percival nodded to the guards to open the doors, to which they did. She led Lancelot inside the castle and towards the throne room. “You walk in there and you kneel. Treat the royal family with utmost respect.” She told the ebony hedgehog, to which he nodded, noting the information down in his head.

When they reached the throne room, Percival opened the door and nodded for Lancelot to walk inside. The hedgehog was hesitant, but obliged, walking in. There was red carpet lying across the floor, leading two the two massive thrones holding the king and queen. His gaze went theirs and he could instantly feel a sense of power coming off them. The queen seemed sweet and king, her lilac fur fitting her royal gown, while the king had a stern look. Lancelot looked down, bowing his head slightly as he made his way to them. Stopping in front of them, he kneeled, bowing his head farther.

The king and queen both seemed satisfied by his politeness. Percival stood near the throne, watching their encounter with wary eyes.

The queen smiled. “Lift your head dear. We’d like to see the eyes of the soul who helped save our kingdom.” She ordered. Lancelot obeyed, lifting his head and meeting their gazes. The queen seemed a little shocked by his blood red eyes, but she still had a softness to her expression.

The king finally spoke up in a gruff voice. “What is your name, outsider.” That nickname had generally been used harshly and meaner than how he had used it. His voice was oddly soft and gentle.

“Lancelot,” he answered simply.

"Lancelot," the king reiterated, "we extend our gratitude for your assistance and wish to reward you generously for the risks you have undertaken." He looked to the queen, earning a small nod from her. He then looked back at the patient hedgehog. "We have been informed that your skill in swordsmanship is exceptional and unmatched in agility and grace, even among our best knights. We would like to extend an offer for you to join us as a Knight of the Round Table."

Lancelot's eyes widened in shock. Knight of the Round Table? Why him? "Shouldn't I be tested to prove I'm worthy?" he asked.

The king chuckled. "Normally, yes. But based on our knights' information, we trust you'll greatly assist our kingdom. We'd be honored to hire you."

"Percival and Gawain will assist you around the palace and with your armor. However, after slaying nearly half a kingdom in under an hour, you shouldn't need sword training." The queen explained further with a smiled. “I’m sure King Uther will have a special job for you as he does with most the knights.”

Lancelot raised a brow. “Special job?”

"Indeed, tasks such as overseeing specific sections of the castle or managing our stables will certainly be assigned."

Lancelot turned to look at the king, seeking clarification about his assigned role.

The king tapped his fingers against his throne as he thought. “Your name will now be addressed as, Sir Lancelot. And your main task will be to…” he trailed off, thinking heavily. Then the king sternly commanded, "…guard my son."

Chapter Text

Lancelot's eyes opened wide upon hearing the task he was being offered. He believed that being named Knight of the Round Table was already a significant honor. But now, his main duty was also to protect the king’s son, the prince. He felt this was too much for him… he was just a mere outsider that decided to help defend the kingdom. He had no wishes to become part of it.

The king, having sensed the hedgehog’s shock and uncertainty, let out a friendly chuckle. “No need to worry much about it, Lancelot. It’s an offer, one we’d normally not give out like we are now. But it’s your decision to take or leave it.”

He glanced at the royals, confusion in his eyes. “Why are you giving it out now? Especially to me. I’m a mere outsider who decided to step in and help. You don’t even know me.” He asked.

They both sighed. This time, it was the queen who spoke up. “It’s rather hard trying to find the best of knights to help our kingdom. There’re tests and practice they have to go through, and not many make it through.” She looked down at the listening hedgehog. “But you’ve prove more worthy than most of our knights in that battle. If not all of them! You scared off the other kingdom while ours fled and stood back. You proved worthy. So, there’s no need for us to pressure test upon you.”

Lancelot nodded slowly, taking in the information. “And the prince? Why am I the one with that task?” he asked.

Uther explained, “Our son has never needed a knight before. But lately, he’s been leaving the kingdom alone and traveling far distances. When we ask him about it, he doesn’t give us clear answers. We had Percival keep an eye on him, but he didn’t open up to her. So, we hope you might have better luck.”

“You want me to get him to talk?” Lancelot asked questionably.

The king shook his head. “No, we want him to trust you. He needs to have someone to both watch him but also be friends with. And you seem younger than most our knights. He may find more comfort around someone in his age range.”

The queen asked, “How old are you, dear? We assume you’re young based on your quills and height, but we cannot be sure.”

Lancelot thought about retreating. Becoming a major knight and getting close to the prince were overwhelming for him, more than he had ever achieved. But he remained strong and replied, “I’m fourteen today.”

"Today? Meaning you have just turned fourteen?" the queen inquired, appearing surprised and slightly uneasy. Upon Lancelot's confirmation, she sighed. "We apologize if we are imposing any undue pressure on you. We are just...hopeful..."

The young hedgehog thought hard about the offer. His ears twitched slightly as he thought. He was lonely, he’d admit. He lived in a dark cave off of basically nothing. And to top this off…Camelot was the place Maria dreamt about the most. His name came from her calling him a knight. It was almost uncanny. He sighed. “I accept the offer,”

Both the king and queen looked shocked, as if not expecting him to accept it. “Pardon?”

“I accept your offer. I’ll be Knight of the Round Table, and I’ll guard your son.” He spoke again, looking up at them while saying it this time. He saw the shock and gratitude on their faces. He knew this meant a lot to them as well.

It took a while for either of them to speak again. But eventually, Uther spoke, “Very well, Sir Lancelot, new Knight of the Round Table. We look forward to collaborating with you.” Lancelot nodded. “Percival will show you around the place and help you get situated.” He said, looking over to the purple feline who nodded back at him. “You two may go now.”

-

Lancelot followed the feline through the halls. She had taken him to see the medic before now to bandage his eye. Though, he refused the wrap and only allowed them to clean it. As they walked through the long, never-ending hallways, he decided to take in the décor and details. On the walls hung pictures of the king and queen, some having what seemed to be their son. But he didn’t seem happy at all. He wondered why.

Percival took a sharp turn down another hallway, looking back to make sure Lancelot was still following. When she saw him, she focused her attention back in front of her. “Keep quiet until we reach our destination. Don’t talk to anyone who comes near us in this upcoming room. You wear no armor, nor wield a sword.” She warned, stopping in front of large wooden doors.

The hedgehog was confused, but nodded, obeying the task at hand. He instinctively swiped a hand over his quills, hiding his horns under them. Percival opened the doors to the room, leading him inside. It was chaotic. Guards everywhere; chatting, training, working out. When they entered the room, he instantly felt all eyes on him. He was the main focus. It made him feel uneasy. He tensed up and following quickly behind Percival as she led him to the end of the room. Just as the feline reached out to open the door, she was stopped by a more muscular guard. He seemed to be high up with how he was acting and dressed.

Percival turned to look at him with a stern expression. “Sir Godfrey,” she greeted. “What is it you need, sir?”

The tall Jackal smiled softly, yet uneasy, at her, then looked to Lancelot. “Who is this?” he asked, gesturing to him with his tail. Lancelot stared back at him, but remained silent as Percival had asked.

The feline turned to the Jackal. “That is none of your concern, Sir Godfrey. The king instructs I show him around.” She replied calmly, though he did not like that response.

“It is my concern if you’re instructing him through my area.” He said with a small growl. “Now, tell me, Percival, Knight of the Round Table… Who is this outsider?” The way he said it sent shivers down Lancelot’s spine. It was clear the Jackal did not like him. He could tell he was an outsider. But how? Was it the smell? He did smell…unappealing.

Percival’s stance became taller as she reached for her sword. She seemed to have noticed the guards getting closer, all glaring and staring at them. “As instructed by my king, I am to show this young knight around.”

“Knight?” The Jackal huffed a laugh. “This thing smells of dirt and prey, how could he be a knight?” He looked towards Lancelot, his lips pulling back in a small warning snarl, making the hedgehog stiffen.

Lancelot’s gaze wandered for a moment behind the Jackal, seeing another, smaller Jackal. He wore his hair up messy and also had a scar across his eye. His was white though. So perhaps a marking instead? The Jackal noticed him staring and averted his attention elsewhere, not seeming to want to get involved at all.

“Enough Godfrey.” Percival told him, leaving no room for argument. She then pushed through him and opened the door, pulling Lancelot through and shutting it. Lancelot looked around the room, seeing it looked much like the other one, just emptier, not as much people. He did see a few though.

“Percival, welcome back. How did it go?” asked a silver hedgehog. His eyes were hidden through his visor, just like Percival’s. But he gave off friendly vibes.

Percival gave a slight nod before addressing the assembled knights. "The king has assigned us a new knight," she stated, receiving inquisitive glances from them. "Having witnessed his ability to repel the opposing kingdom and wield the sword with remarkable proficiency, the king decided to both reward and hire him."

The knights all looked at the ebony hedgehog before looking back at Percival. “Just a regular knight?” Questioned the echidna.

“If he were just a regular, would he be here?” Percival questioned, earning small gasp from them.

“Uther made him a Knight of the Round Table without question?!”

“Relax, Gawain… The king is wise and has trust in this knight to not only guard, but to protect his son.” Percival explained calmly, earning more shocked reactions out of them.

“The king trusts a knight he just met to protect Arthur?!” Gawain exclaimed, shocked.

Lancelot stood there awkwardly, waiting to be ordered to do something. Anything. He watched as Percival explained more to the knights, not noticing the silver one approach him until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He nearly jumped, but composed himself, turning to looked at him.

The silver hedgehog had his visor up, revealing his golden eyes. He smiled at the ebony and crimson hedgehog in front of him before speaking in a gentle tone. “Hello, new knight! I’m Sir Galahad, one of the Knights of the Round Table! What’s your name?” He spoke as if he was speaking to a sensitive child, careful not to scare him.

Lancelot stood as tall as he could, which wasn’t nearly as tall as them. “Lancelot,” he replied bluntly. He looked to the others, seeing them now staring at him. He felt a little uneasy but didn’t let that bother him.

“It’s a pleasure working with you, Sir Lancelot!” Galahad said with a wide smile. “These are some of the other Knights of the Round Table! Gawain, Kay, and I’m sure you already know Percival.” Lancelot nodded in confirmation. “Great! Now—”

“Now I will show you your armor and where you sleep so you can meet the prince tomorrow.” Percival spoke up, walking to the far side of the room and opening a big closet, revealing tons of armor. Lancelot approached and looked at all the armor in awe. “Pick one and we’ll be on our way.”

-

Later the next day. The castle was eerily quiet as Percival led Lancelot down the hallways and towards the prince’s chambers. Lancelot cringed every step of the way, feeling his armor pinch and bite at him. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but one he had to get used to.

Once they arrived in front of the prince’s chambers, Percival stopped, knocking on the big doors. There was no response, but that didn’t stop her from calling, “Arthur, your father has assigned you a new knight. You must get to know him without a fuss.” She spoke to him as if this was a recurring issue. Lancelot swore he heard a faint groan on the other side before it went quiet again. Percival sighed. “Good luck, Sir Lancelot. Hopefully he doesn’t cause you any trouble.” She then turned and headed back the way she came.

Lancelot stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Does he barge in? Does he knock again? He was left with little to no information about this boy. How was he supposed to know how to act?

The young knight took a deep breath before slowly cracking the door open, peaking inside. “Prince Arthur? May I come inside?” He asked. All he got in response was a mumbled “fine”. He sighed, preparing for the worst before stepping inside.

The heavy door shut behind him, creating an awkward silence afterwards. He saw the prince slumped in the corner, underneath some blankets. He wasn’t even on his bed. Was this kid alright? Lancelot cleared his throat, about to speak, but the prince beat him to it.

“So, you’re my guard?” He asked, peaking his head out of the blanket. His fur and quills were a beautiful blue, and his emerald eyes really matched with it. He was unique. Undeniably royalty. But he didn’t seem happy.

Lancelot composed himself before speaking, “Knight—”

“Knight, whatever…” Arthur huffed, wrapping himself in his blankets. “Why’re you even here? I don’t need a knight… They’ll only hold me back…away from the world…” He questioned bluntly, not seeming to care if he offends him or not. Was this what this was about? Was he scared Lancelot was going to keep him inside and away from the world?

The knight took a step closer but stopped when the prince made a small growl. He sighed, sitting down, showing he’s not a threat. “I’m not here to hurt you or keep you confined from the world.”

"My parents don't want me going anywhere," Arthur said bluntly. "They'd keep me in this castle forever if they could." The prince looked down, practically hugging himself with his blanket. “And if they hired you, how am I to know you’re different?”

That was a good question. One Lancelot had to take a moment to think about before answering, “Because I’m not like them.” The prince raised a brow, confused as to where this was going. “I know what it’s like to be trapped and ordered around… To feel like you’ll never truly be free…” He took a moment, looking at the prince who had his ears perked, listening. “I’m not fully sure what I’m doing here if I’m being honest… All I was told to do is protect you, so that’s all I’m going to do. I’m not going to tell you you can’t go outside. I just have to keep watch over you.”

“Like some sort of hound.” Arthur spat, making Lancelot stiffen. “They treat you unfair too… like some damn dog; obeying their orders and protecting what they can’t…” The prince looked away, leaning back into his blanket. “Why would you want that sort of job? Wouldn’t you also want to be free?”

Lancelot tensed at the question, unsure how to answer it. He took a breath, thinking of a response. “To be completely honest…this is freer than my life before…” he mumbled, earning the prince’s attention. “I don’t have to live isolated and alone…”

That sentence alone made the prince put his defenses down. “You were isolated and alone too?” he asked, his voice a little shaky with a tiny tinge of hope. “Do you feel the pain I feel?”

“I did,” Lancelot admitted.

Arthur instantly perked up, seeming more interested than isolated now. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Lancelot,” he replied.

“Lancelot…” The prince mumbled the name with fascination. “I’m…Arthur… but you already know that…” He hugged his knees to his chest, rocking awkwardly in place.

Lancelot nodded. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Arthur…”

“Please… just call me Arthur… enough of the fancy prince garbage…” He pleaded, hugging his knees tighter.

Lancelot nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Several minutes of silence passed without either of them speaking. Eventually, Arthur decided to break the silence. “So…what got you…well…here?” he asked curiously.

Lancelot recalled the battle and his reward. "There was a fight between your kingdom and another, and I joined in to help. Your parents, the king and queen, rewarded me, seeing me worthy enough to be your knight.” He explained.

Arthur took a moment to process the information. He knew his kingdom was under attack, but it was Lancelot who fought them off? He was both shocked and in awe. “You wield a sword or bow?” He asked.

“A sword,” Lancelot replied. “One I made myself.”

Arthur looked up at him, letting his defenses down some more. “So, you mean to tell me that you fought off an entire kingdom with a handmade sword?!” He exclaimed, shocked.

Lancelot chuckled softly. “Yes, I did… maybe not the entire kingdom, but most of it.”

“That’s still amazing!” He exclaimed. “I wish my parents weren’t so protective of me… I wish to wield a sword of my own so that I can defend myself, you know?” Lancelot nodded, understanding completely. “How old were you when you first wield one?”

Lancelot thought back, cringing at the memory of his grandfather handing him the sword. “I think I was around seven.”

“SEVEN?!” Arthur shouted, shocked. Lancelot winced a little from the yell. “Sorry… but seven? You were seven when you first held a sword?” He asked just to be sure what he heard was correct. Lancelot nodded. “I wish my parents would let me hold a sword at an age like that! I’d be as swift as you!” He paused before asking the next question. “How old are you anyway?”

Lancelot took a moment before replying, “Fourteen.”

“Fourteen?!” There it was again, the yell of pure shock. Arthur’s jaw was wide open. “You’re only a year older than me and you not only know how to wield a sword, but you’re my knight!?” There was a moment of silence before Lancelot nodded once again. Arthur started talking again, and they both chatted for a little while, getting to know each other.

Some time in the time they were talking, Arthur scooted closer to the knight, now sitting only a few feet across from him. His blue quills were messy after being under a blanket for likely all day. But unlike before, he didn’t look miserable. He looked excited. He was excited. He had a knight around his age to talk to constantly. What wasn’t cool about that?

As it got later, the castle got quieter and quieter, and the lights from outside of Arthur’s room dimmed, indicating it was near night. Arthur stood up abruptly, walking to his door and opening it slightly before peeking out.

Lancelot stood up with a confused expression. “What’re you doing?” He asked.

“Making sure the coast is clear…” Arthur responded.

“Clear for what?”

Arthur looked back at him with a smile. “Wanna watch the sunset with me, my knight?” he asked, opening the door wider.

Lancelot was caught of guard by the question. “Watch the sunset? But aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“Oh please! We’re both young! Why waste our nights in bed when we can watch the sunset?” He said, approaching the young knight who was deep in thought. He grabbed his hand and smiled. “Besides, they didn’t say you couldn’t take me outside.” He stated.

The young knight sighed, letting the prince take his hand and pull him out of the room. Arthur led him down the halls, down the stairs, and out the back door into the garden. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t where Arthur was going. “I know just the place!” He led Lance through a shortcut to the outside, through the bushes in the garden. Then he took off running, hand still in his. He led Lancelot a little further from the castle, to an area he watched the sunsets at.

Lancelot took in spot, staring at it in awe. It was a tall, outstanding cherry blossom tree. Arthur led him closer before pulling away and sitting down underneath it, looking out at the setting sun. Lancelot noticed how the hues of light looked against his fur. How the light reflected beautifully off his eyes.

Arthur turned to looked up at him, shaking the ebony hedgehog out of thought. “Are you going to sit there and brood, or come sit and watch the sunset with me?” He asked, a smile on his face.

Lancelot sighed and sat beside him, getting comfortable on the soft ground with his armor. He looked out to the sunset, leaning back against the tree with Arthur.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Arthur asked while staring at it.

Lancelot nodded. “Indeed, it is…” He heard Arthur let out a content sigh, relaxing under the setting sun, beside his new knight.

Arthur smiled. “You know, Lancelot… at first, I was uncertain of you… I thought you’d be like everyone else and only care about what my parents say… but…you truly do care for me it seems…not just my parents…” He leaned back more against the tree. “I like that about you.” He closed his eyes and fully relaxed.

Lancelot couldn’t help but feel a small tug at the corners of his mouth, urging him to smile. He also felt a thin layer of heat rest on his muzzle but ignored it. A minute passed and Arthur had done awfully quiet. He was about to turn over to see if he was okay, when suddenly, the prince leaned his head on his shoulder. Lancelot stiffened, unsure what to do in that situation. Was the prince asleep? “A-Arthur?”

“Shhhh…” Arthur shushed him, smiling as he leaned closer to the knight. Lancelot took a moment to relax before smiling softly. He looked out at the set sun, seeing only a sliver of light left. He sighed quietly, leaning his head against Arthur’s. He’d usually question himself on why he’d do such a thing, but he was oddly comfortable. The smell of fresh air along with the feeling of soft grass as they lay against each other. It was memorable. Something he could get used to.

Chapter Text

Lancelot woke up from his slumbers, in a small cot in the room with the other knights of the Round Table. He seemed to be the last one awake, other than Galahad who was still snoring on the floor. His silver fur messy, and some of his quills sticking up and out.

Lance sat up with a big yawn, showing his fangs momentarily before realizing, quickly shutting his mouth. He looked around at the other knights. Luckily no one had noticed. He didn’t want them to see his teeth and call him what his bullies had referred to him as. Same with his horns he himself had no clue the origin to. He swooped a hand over his quills to hide his horns and swung his legs over the edge of the cot.

“Good morning, Sir Lancelot.” Percival said with a smile, turning to look at him. She had just pulled on her visor, but it remained up, showing her yellow eyes.

Lancelot smiled softly. “Morning, Percival…” he said back to her. He turned his head, his eyes landing back on Galahad who was sprawled out on the floor, snoring. “Is he uh… is he okay?”

Percival sighed and nodded. “Yeah, he just…does that sometimes...” She explained.

“Why’s he on the floor?” Lancelot questioned, earning only a shrug from the feline before she turned and left the room, likely reporting to duty, as Lancelot should be doing.

The ebony hedgehog got up and walked past the other knights, towards the closet holding their armor. He opened the doors and looked around for his own, his and Galahad’s being the only one’s still in their spots. With a click, he grabbed his armor from its spot and put it on with little effort. Once finished, he grabbed his sword and walked towards his cot, near the door.

“Heading to the Prince?” Gawain asked, his arms crossed. It was obvious he didn’t trust the hedgehog, and Lancelot didn’t blame him. He did suddenly appear one day with the job of protecting the Prince. It was both confusing and eerie.

Lancelot nodded calmly, looking down at the silver hedgehog, still sound asleep.

“You shouldn’t have that job,” Gawain’s words were blunt and shocked Lancelot momentarily. The hedgehog turned to look up at him, his crimson eyes, even when covered by the visor, spoke for him; questioning Gawain’s sudden choice of words. “The prince is not only a lost cause, but should not be protected by you. You didn’t get any of the training we fought for! You didn’t suffer the pain we suffered to earn these places at the table! You don’t deserve it.”

Lancelot tried to keep his composure, taking a breath and turning away from the echidna, trying to ignore him. But he wouldn’t take the silence. He grabbed the hedgehog by the neck and slammed him into the wall, hard. Lancelot gasped and grunted upon hitting the wall, his back colliding with it painfully. He looked up at Gawain, glaring at him through his visor.

“You’re just lucky the king pitied you enough to bring you here. You smell of weakness. Your body is as frail as a fawn. I can practically count the ribs on it without your armor.” Gawain growled.

“What is the meaning of this…?” Lancelot managed out, instantly being slapped from the taller, stronger knight.

“We earned our places at the table and you think you can walk up in here and be appreciated for doing NOTHING!?” Gawain shouted, pulling his fist back to punch the hedgehog. “You’re not welcomed here…I hope you know that. None of us like or appreciate you. You are a useless, pitied accessory the king collected. You mean nothing to this table.” He spat in his face, making the hedgehog cringe.

Lancelot couldn’t find the words to say. The words to fight back. He was speechless. Scared. Gawain was not only loud, but he was strong. He could tear him apart if he wanted to. He grunted as the echidna let him go, pushing him aside roughly as he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

The young knight stumbled, regaining his balance, and taking a moment to breathe. What just happened? He questioned himself. He had been degraded and thrown around, hurt and abused. He wanted to sit and cry, but he pushed past that want and focused on his duties. The prince needed him. And oddly enough…he found himself needing the Prince as well. He found comfort in his presence. Importance. He craved more of it.

Lancelot needed to go, but before he did, he turned to look at Galahad who was still fast asleep on the floor. Was he mistreated too? Did they neglect him? Why not bother waking him up? He could get in serious trouble! He sighed and approached the peaceful bundle of fur, poking him gently with his sword. “Galahad—“

The silver hedgehog screamed upon feeling the sword against his pelt. He sat up quickly, looking around frantically. “Who- huh-“

“Galahad! Relax! It’s me!” Lancelot said, retracting his sword, trying to calm the panicked hedgehog down.

Galahad, upon spotting Lancelot, chuckled. “Oh…it’s just you!” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I-I’m a heavy sleeper, so you poking me scared me pretty bad… Sorry about that! That’s embarrassing…”

Lancelot shook his head, smiling warmly. “You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he assured him. “I’m sorry I scared you… I was trying to wake you up so you didn’t get in trouble.” He explained.

Galahad looked up at him with a brow rose. “Really? You did that? So I didn’t get in trouble?”

“Uhhh… yeah? Doesn’t everyone?” Lancelot questioned, a little concerned.

Galahad quickly hid his surprise and nodded. “Ohhhh! Yeahhh! Totally! Us Round Table knights; best of friends! Heheh…” Lancelot could see right past his lie and that concerned him. He would’ve questioned him if he had not previously been hurt by Gawain. He could only imagine what he might’ve did to him… “Y-you should really get going, Lancelot! Arthur might need you! Th-thank you though…for waking me… I appreciate it!”

Lancelot nodded, deciding to drop the conversation there. He turned and approached the door, looking back at Galahad one last time before opening it and heading out, letting the door shut behind him on its own. He felt the eyes of the other knights on him. All staring and judging him. All but that one jackal he had seen his first time here. He stood off in the distance, away from the commotion, not seeming to want to be a part of it at all. And the eye he gave his brother, which Lancelot only assumed to be his brother, was questioning. Hatred. Pure hatred.

-

Arthur’s laughter rang in Lancelot’s perked ears, a smile across his face. He sat beside the prince on his bed, staring up at the ceiling where stars and constellations were painted. Arthur pointed to one and sat up, smiling. “That constellation is Andromeda,” he says, looking to Lancelot. “It tells a story of love, beauty, and jealousy. Did you know that?” Lancelot shook his head, earning a small gasp from the prince. “I’ll have to tell you all about it then!” Lancelot nodded, his ears perked as he waited to be told the whole story by the prince. But just as Arthur opened his mouth to do so, there was a knock on his door.

“Prince Arthur, your parents urge you to take a bath. There will be guest tomorrow morning.” Said a calm and gentle voice.

Arthur sighed and nodded, even though the person couldn’t see him. “Yes, uncle… I’ll bathe now.” He told him, groaning quietly and lying back. Lancelot heard the footsteps walk off and nearly chuckled at Arthur’s action.

“Why can’t you take one tomorrow, before the guest arrive?” Lancelot couldn’t help but question.

Arthur yawned. “I’m not a morning person. And when there are guest coming in the morning, it’s generally really early.” He mumbled, sitting back up. He looked over at Lancelot, seeing his nod. With a smile, and a quick sniff of the air, he offered, “You want to join me? You smell horrid!” He giggled the last part, half joking.

Lancelot felt his muzzle heat up, thankfully hidden by his visor. He shook his head softly. “No, it’d be inappropriate to see you so exposed… and I’m sure there are baths for the knights.”

“Yeah, but those are shared and disgusting… mine is private! No one will know! I swear on it!” Arthur explained, placing a dramatic hand on his heart, smiling.

The young knight sighed. “Still, Arthur, it’s not appropriate, your parents wouldn’t allow it. I apologize…” he murmured, bowing his head softly as an apology.

Arthur sighed and nodded, standing up from his bed. “Alright, I see… I’ll talk to my parents about that. I don’t like my knight having to embarrass himself bathing in front of others like that. At least I know how to be respectful.” He mumbled, looking away. There was more to that than just him wanting Lancelot to have privacy. He was hiding something. Something dark.

Lancelot was going to say something else, but Arthur was quick to excuse himself from the room. Lance sighed and followed him out, shutting the door gently behind him. He watched Arthur make his way down the hall. He couldn’t just leave him to walk alone. So he walked with him, keeping his distance. He knew Arthur was aware of his presence from the smirk on his face as he turned to the bathroom door.

“Very well, my knight. You walk me here, but don’t bother coming inside.” Arthur said, not bothering to look at Lancelot. With a sigh, the prince put on a false smile. A fake one… “I’ll see you after… you should go take your own bath now. We’ll meet in my chambers.” With that being said, he walked into the private bath chambers.

Lancelot nodded softly, turning around to walk towards the knight chambers. He assumed baths were near that area. But as he was beginning to walk back, the familiar jackal he remembered by the name Godfrey, walked by. He turned to watch where he was headed, seeing him approach the private bath chambers, looking around before walking inside. Lancelot’s brows furrowed as he watched. Was he a close friend of Arthur or something? Maybe a close relative that helps him bathe? It bothered him nonetheless. But he decided to push the uneasy feeling away and continue heading back to the knight chambers.

-

Lancelot smiled at Galahad as a way of saying thank you to the knight for bringing him to the bathing chambers. There were showers though, no baths. But it didn’t bother Lancelot. He didn’t care. Anything was better than that icy pond.

Galahad looked around nervously, hugging himself tightly after removing the last of his armor. Lancelot wasn’t insecure of his body, not usually. He went years wearing nothing. It wasn’t forbidden. He slept with nothing on, but he always saw Galahad with something on. Was he insecure? Likely with how he was acting. Lancelot wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of Gawain. He had said things about him that made him feel worse about his body. Were his ribs really that shown? But he tried not to let it get to him.

“Galahad?” Lancelot called gently. The silver hedgehog turned to look at him, anxiety clear in his eyes. Lance sighed and smiled softly. “Hey, I won’t let anyone near you, alright? You don’t need to be afraid.”

“No, you don’t understand. You’re new…” Galahad mumbled. “They judge you… they eye you and judge you constantly… especially knights of the table…” he whispered so only Lancelot could hear.

The ebony and crimson hedgehog narrowed his eyes and looked around, noticing the amount of eyes already on him. He glared at the knights and looked back at Galahad. “Hide yourself behind me. I’m not afraid of their stares, I’ll stare back.” He said. Galahad was hesitant, but nodded, a faint smile on his face.

-

Bathing was a pain. Lancelot said he didn’t mind being stared at, but that was a lie. He was stiff as a rock, terrified as eyes trailed all over him. But nonetheless, he got bathed and made sure Galahad did too. He was now on his way to the prince’s chambers, trying to get through the knights to get out. But he was stopped by one.

“S-sir Lancelot!” One spoke up, standing in front of the young knight. Lancelot raised a brow under his visor, looking at the terrified wolf. “I-I just wanted to uhm… apologize…for how I treated you in battle…” he murmured, looking down nervously.

Lancelot remembered now. This was Gravdal, the wolf that lectured him instead of thanking him for saving the kingdom. He sighed and nodded. “I guess perhaps I can forgive you. Though your words and lack of action need to be fixed.” Lance explained with a faint smile.

The wolf nodded rapidly and smiled. “O-of course sir! Thank you, sir!” He said, running off.

Lancelot chuckled, watching him run off. He stiffened upon seeing Godfrey walk past him from outside. The jackal pushed past everyone and to the back where the other jackal sat, eyeing him with more hatred than before. Lance brushed it off and continued his way out, walking to the prince’s chambers. Upon reaching them, he knocked on them.

“Come in…” Arthur mumbled, sounding exhausted. Lancelot felt a bit of worry coarse through him at the sound. He opened the door and stepped in, letting it click shut behind him. Then he approached the prince who was lying in bed, covered by loads of blankets. It was still day, more in the late afternoon though.

“Are you feeling alright, Arthur?” Lancelot asked, seeming worried.

Arthur smiled and nodded. “Yes, my knight… I’m just tired…” he mumbled, faking a yawn. “Care to join me?” He asked, patting the bed softly beside him.

Lancelot raised a brow under his visor. “Join you in bed? Why are you already tired? Normally you’re bouncing around and wanting to sneak out.” He’s only known the prince for a day and a half, but this just didn’t seem right.

Arthur sighed. “Begging my parents to let you share the private bath chambers with me was a lot of work…” he mumbled, but Lancelot could tell it was a lie.

-

“Why do you want him to be with you? Why not your uncle? Or Godfrey? He’s a wise knight.” Uther questioned him, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his throne.

Arthur sighed, trying to come up with a good reasoning. “Because he’s the only one close to my age! So I don’t feel as embarrassed with him!” He explained, praying it would work.

His father sighed. “Fine.”

-

Lancelot now laid beside Arthur in his bed, his visor raised above his eyes. He stared up at the constellations on Arthur’s roof, admiring them. Arthur smiled and scooted closer to him, leaning his head on his shoulder and staring up at the stars as well. Lancelot smiled. “If you want to cuddle, you could just ask.”

“Wh-what?!” Arthur stammered, trying to act surprised, though he knew it was true. “I-I wasn’t trying to cuddle! …but if you’re offering…” The prince laid his head against the knights chest plate, smiling softly. He didn’t care if the armor felt uncomfortable, he felt comfortable being in his arms. “My parents said you can bathe with me…” he mumbled with a wide smile, closing his eyes and nuzzling against him. Lancelot wrapped his arm around the prince, rubbing his back. “Now you can protect me in there too…”

Those words made Lancelot’s heart drop. Protect him in there? What was happening in there? The only odd thing he saw was… Godfrey… Realization dawned on him. What was that man doing to him?

Arthur wrapped his arms around his knight’s neck, nuzzling against his armor with a smile. “Thank you for being here…” he mumbled, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Lancelot sighed and smiled back. “Of course, my prince…” he closed his eyes and rubbed his back some more. “I’ll protect you until the end of time. Until the stars die out and the sun stops shining. I’ll protect you even if it cost my life.”