Morning came quickly, and the sun was barely over the horizon when Arthur jerked awake from a nightmare, scrubbing a hand over his face tiredly
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It was the lost of Arthur's warmth that woke him and he rolled over sleepily before cracking his eyelids open.
No Arthur.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, then glanced around the room, hoping that Arthur hadn't left without saying goodbye. That would have been very inconsiderate.
Arthur was sitting at his desk, alternating between watching him and looking, with distaste, at the maps in his hands.
He stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes again. "Thought you'd left without telling me," he mumbled, sitting up further, resting against the headboard.
"Oh, no," Arthur replied, smiling a bit, even if it didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm not that idiotic," he added, standing, finding the small bag he packed in his saddle, stuffing the maps and journal into it.
He threw on a high collared tunic, and shuffled about, pulling out his scattered armor, dreading to put it on, but knowing the quicker he left, the quicker he would come back.
"Better than I have in a long time," Lancelot answered truthfully, heart sinking as he watched Arthur finish his packing and pull out his armour.
It wasn't often that Lancelot didn't accompany Arthur anywhere and usually it made him uncomfortable enough.
But now - now it was worse. Not only because of what they'd finally discovered but also because Lancelot had no idea what Arthur would find out there. And he had no idea how he'd cope without Arthur there.
You're a knight, he reminded himself for the he-didn't-know-how-many-th time. Act like it.
He couldn't, however, help the slight sagging of his shoulder and, without meaning to, he looked vaguely like a lost puppy. He worried his lower lip, gazing up at Arthur, shadows beginning to creep back into his eyes with each piece of equipment that Arthur lay out.
Arthur found the last piece of his armor, his left gauntlet, under his desk, and sighed as he fastened it on.
Running hand through his hair, he stopped, noticing the slightly sagging expression Lancelot had on his face. The other man had his lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes were shadowed looking.
"Stop, Lancelot," Arthur said, approaching the bed. "I will be fine. We'll be back faster than you want us to be," he added, joking halfheartedly.
"I will be careful, I promise you."
He reached out, and touched the other man gently, running one finger down his cheek.
and I will find out what happened to you - that you can bet on. And take care of it.
"You better be," Lancelot mumbled, leaning into the touch. He kept his eyes open, watching Arthur through half-lowered lashes. "Or I'll have to kill you myself."
He glanced once more at Arthur's pack, sighed and consciously straightened up. Don't make this any harder for him.
"I hate this," he murmured. "I wish I was going with you - I know," he added, seeing Arthur about to answer. "I know I can't. But if you get yourself killed, I swear I'll hate you forever." Not very mature, but he could live with that.
"Well, if that's not a reason to be careful, then I can't think of one," Arthur joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I live for your ire."
He moved to the desk, picked up his small bag, and settled it over his shoulder. Turning to the wall, he pulled Excalibur down from its hanger, and looked at it momentarily. Sighing, he strapped it around his waist, the familiar weight not quite as welcome as normal.
"I should go to the stables now," he said reluctantly. He hesitated, not sure what to say.
"...be well, my friend," he murmured finally, trying to smile at the other man. "I'll see you soon."
Lancelot let out a soft moan, opening up to Arthur's touch, fingers going up to thread into his hair. He let Arthur kiss him, poured his frustration into the kiss, before pulling away breathlessly, looking at Arthur through half-lidded eyes.
"Go," he whispered. "Or else you aren't going to be able to."
"Just this once," Lancelot vowed, still watching Arthur. "Because next time, I'm coming with you."
He tore his gaze away from Arthur's for a minute to steady himself and ground himself enough to say the next words. "Turn around, Arthur. And walk out that door. I'll be here when you come back."
"I'm counting on it," Arthur answered, then did the only thing he could.
He left, shutting the door behind him, leaning against it momentarily, then striding off toward the stables, and hopefully, the waiting Dagonet and Gawain.
No Arthur.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, then glanced around the room, hoping that Arthur hadn't left without saying goodbye. That would have been very inconsiderate.
Arthur was sitting at his desk, alternating between watching him and looking, with distaste, at the maps in his hands.
He stifled a yawn, rubbing his eyes again. "Thought you'd left without telling me," he mumbled, sitting up further, resting against the headboard.
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"I'm not that idiotic," he added, standing, finding the small bag he packed in his saddle, stuffing the maps and journal into it.
He threw on a high collared tunic, and shuffled about, pulling out his scattered armor, dreading to put it on, but knowing the quicker he left, the quicker he would come back.
"Sleep all right?"
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It wasn't often that Lancelot didn't accompany Arthur anywhere and usually it made him uncomfortable enough.
But now - now it was worse. Not only because of what they'd finally discovered but also because Lancelot had no idea what Arthur would find out there. And he had no idea how he'd cope without Arthur there.
You're a knight, he reminded himself for the he-didn't-know-how-many-th time. Act like it.
He couldn't, however, help the slight sagging of his shoulder and, without meaning to, he looked vaguely like a lost puppy. He worried his lower lip, gazing up at Arthur, shadows beginning to creep back into his eyes with each piece of equipment that Arthur lay out.
Reply
Running hand through his hair, he stopped, noticing the slightly sagging expression Lancelot had on his face. The other man had his lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes were shadowed looking.
"Stop, Lancelot," Arthur said, approaching the bed. "I will be fine. We'll be back faster than you want us to be," he added, joking halfheartedly.
"I will be careful, I promise you."
He reached out, and touched the other man gently, running one finger down his cheek.
and I will find out what happened to you - that you can bet on. And take care of it.
Reply
He glanced once more at Arthur's pack, sighed and consciously straightened up. Don't make this any harder for him.
"I hate this," he murmured. "I wish I was going with you - I know," he added, seeing Arthur about to answer. "I know I can't. But if you get yourself killed, I swear I'll hate you forever." Not very mature, but he could live with that.
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He moved to the desk, picked up his small bag, and settled it over his shoulder. Turning to the wall, he pulled Excalibur down from its hanger, and looked at it momentarily. Sighing, he strapped it around his waist, the familiar weight not quite as welcome as normal.
"I should go to the stables now," he said reluctantly. He hesitated, not sure what to say.
"...be well, my friend," he murmured finally, trying to smile at the other man. "I'll see you soon."
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"Yes, I'll see you when you get back." He levels a serious look at Arthur, lower lip slipping between his teeth unconsciously again. "Take care."
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He opened the heavy wooden thing, his mind warring with his body.
"Ah, to hell with it," he said, and moved to the other man, grabbed his head, and pressed his lips to Lancelot's.
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"Go," he whispered. "Or else you aren't going to be able to."
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"Take. care. of. yourself," he ordered, "If I find out you've been riding or sparring, you will be sorry. You must get well."
"God," he sighed, touching his own lips with his fingertips.
"You make it very hard to leave, you know that?" he whispered, his back against the door frame, Excalibur clanking as it hit the edge of the wood.
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He tore his gaze away from Arthur's for a minute to steady himself and ground himself enough to say the next words. "Turn around, Arthur. And walk out that door. I'll be here when you come back."
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He left, shutting the door behind him, leaning against it momentarily, then striding off toward the stables, and hopefully, the waiting Dagonet and Gawain.
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