Camelot #2
"Shhh," Galehaut said soothingly. "You did what you must to save Camelot.
" He set Lancelot back on his feet and cupped his face in those enormous, gentle hands, wiping away tears with his thumbs.
"Maleagant took me as a child, you know.
I was only barely ten. He restored my memories, somehow, so that as a mere boy I knew all that had happened in my previous life.
Then he locked me in that collar, made me his slave.
Even if I had remained dead, my heart, you would have freed me from that.
"Anyway, I don't remember much of anything of those last moments.
I was too overwhelmed by pain, shadows, and the chaos of the fight.
So though you were forced to drown me, I have no memory of it.
Even if I did, I would still know that you did what you must, what was right.
Do you hate me? For hurting you over and over?
For trying to kill you on Maleagant's orders? "
"Of course I don't. That wasn't you. You didn't have a choice."
"Nor did you, while I was his obedient dog. You did what you had to. You've always done what is best for Camelot and its people. No matter how much it hurt you. No matter what it cost you."
"I missed you so much," Lancelot said. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you—kill you. It will haunt me for a long time."
"I'll just have to keep you distracted. Now kiss me, pretty thing, for I have missed you desperately all these years while I was locked away in the recesses of my own mind.
" He picked Lancelot up again, as though it were the easiest thing in the world, and Lancelot threw his arms around his neck and kissed him with all the agony and fear and longing of the past many weeks.
Lancelot laughed with relief and joy as they parted, caressing the lines of Galehaut's face. "I thought I'd lost you. I can't believe I have you again."
"You're going to have me, all right," Galehaut said, carrying him over to the oak tree.
Where an enormous bed had been made up under a sprawling canopy, and a campfire was ready to be lit when needed, with food and other supplies aplenty.
The bed was piled with blankets and furs, had clearly been spelled for additional warmth so the fire would not be needed.
Galehaut had been out for days, and clearly would have stayed out here days more.
"Why are you camping out here with the castle right there?" Lancelot asked in bewilderment.
Galehaut gave him a look. "As though I would stray further from your side than I must. The water prevented me from sleeping beside you, but I could remain here until the best or the worst came to pass." He set Lancelot on his feet, kissed him until he couldn't breathe, then went to light the fire.
Lancelot banished all his clothes and stretched out on the bed, sighing softly that it smelled of Galehaut, warm and earthy and so desperately missed. His tears mingled with smooth linen and soft fur, as relief threatened to tear him apart at the seams.
Just minutes ago he'd wished he'd died. Now he had everything he'd ever wanted. To say he was frayed at the edges and barely knew which way was up was an understatement as vast as the ocean was deep.
A large hand ran up his leg from ankle to ass, kneading it briefly before pushing Lancelot over on his back. The crackling fire painted his skin in oranges and yellows. Equally naked now, he climbed into bed, over Lancelot, and took his mouth in a hungry, demanding, claiming kiss.
Maybe they should be taking their time, talking and resting and reconnecting more gently, but Lancelot didn't give a fuck. He wanted his gentle giant in every way he could have him, feel for himself, deeply and truly, that Galehaut was alive and well and his once more.
Later they'd take their time, explore and tease and relearn every last detail.
Right now, Lancelot was far too greedy for slow and tender, and Galehaut's desperate need matched his own.
In no time at all, he'd breached Lancelot's hole with one large, slick finger, making him howl as he found what he sought.
"How long since someone has done right by you, pretty thing? "
"Years ago, and they weren't very satisfying.
Easier to just log into a porn game and basically get myself off," Lancelot gasped out, then moaning as one finger became two.
Nobody had ever filled him like Galehaut, and he didn't care about what kind of slut that made him.
Managing a laugh between moans, he gasped out, "You know how picky I am. "
"You know what you need and accept nothing less.
That's not picky," Galehaut said, stretching him wide, always careful but never to the point of coddling.
He smiled, hot and smug, as Lancelot shuddered, pushed back on his fingers, and finally added a third one.
"Certainly I like knowing I'm the only one who can fill you properly. "
"Only you," Lancelot said, clinging to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin. "Now fill me."
Withdrawing his fingers, leaving Lancelot achingly empty for terrible seconds, Galehaut slicked his cock, lined it up, and finally, slowly, pushed inside him. "Are you certain it's not too much after all this time?"
"You could never be too much for me," Lancelot said breathlessly. "Now move."
Galehaut obeyed, holding Lancelot in place easily as he drove into him over and over, splitting him wide, fucking him so deep Lancelot could practically fucking taste it, leaving him overheated, overstimulated, overcome with it all.
This man he'd watched die once, then lost to Maleagant before he ever awoke, then had to kill in the way he feared the most. Tears streamed down his face from too much all at once from every direction, but he only clung tightly and begged for more, until a hand stroked his cock, and he came apart at the seams screaming Galehaut's name.
He was still struggling to get his breath back a few minutes later when Galehaut finally came inside him. Lancelot whimpered slightly as Galehaut carefully pulled out of him, though it was more from the emptiness than the discomfort.
Galehaut climbed from the bed and returned with a rag to clean him up, then built up the fire a bit more before climbing back into bed and pulling the heavy blankets up over them. "Get some more rest. I know I've probably overtaxed you."
"Worth it," Lancelot said, even as he drifted back to sleep, lulled by the steady beat of Galehaut's heart.
When he woke again, the sun was up, and he'd barely managed to say good morning before Galehaut had him on all fours and was taking him with greedy abandon. Lancelot screamed loud enough they probably heard him in the castle.
Once he could move again, they washed up in the lake before dressing. When Lancelot started to pack away their little campsite though, Galehaut pulled him away. "We're expected. I've kept you from our friends long enough. They're starting to get annoyed with me."
Lancelot laughed, but he was eager to see them too, after all they'd suffered together to finally achieve this victory.
Rather than the side door, though, Galehaut insisted on taking him around to the main entrance, where the doors were propped wide open—a sign of peace, which made him want to laugh and cry all over again. Peace at last, because against all odds, they'd defeated Maleagant.
As they stepped into the great hall, the low lighting turned bright, and suddenly there were scores of people cheering and clapping, banners and confetti and balloons everywhere.
Everyone was dressed in court finery, which made Lancelot feel foolish, until he remembered how quickly and easily he could change clothes here.
"What is all this about?" he asked. "I thought you were celebrating last night."
"That was to welcome newcomers to Camelot," Arthur said, descending from his throne to hug Lancelot tightly.
"Today we at last celebrate the Prince of Tides who saved us all.
" He rested his hands on Lancelot's shoulders, then kissed his cheeks.
"Come, there is much to discuss, but first we celebrate. "
He'd scarcely stepped away when Merlin surged in to hug him tightly. "Stupid bastard, can't believe we almost lost you."
"I would never make your life that easy," Lancelot replied.
After that, it was chaos as everyone came to hug him, greet him, followed by a flurry of new people who all looked at him in a way he did not understand at all.
Then there was food and dancing, all kinds of performances, and it was so much like the old days before everything went horribly wrong that it almost hurt.
Except that now they had new days of peace, and nothing to worry about for some time, per the assurances of the Lady of the Lake herself.
Looking back, he really should have known Galehaut was alive because his mother had not offered condolences on his passing.
Hours later, as dark began to fall and everyone ambled away exhausted to find their beds, Lancelot gathered with the rest of the inner circle in the middle of the great hall. The dregs of revelry had been cleared away, the great hall its normal self once more, the lights softened.
"All right, before we get to the bad news you clearly need to tell me, I have this," Lancelot said, pulling Maleagant's skull, meticulously picked clean by the lake inhabitants and left pristine, even the lower jaw secured in place.
Morgan's face lit up and she immediately swooped in to take it. "Mine."
Arthur chuckled fondly. "That went exactly as I predicted. When we couldn't find it, I had a feeling you'd chucked it in the lake. It's yours by right of combat."
"I don't want it," Lancelot said.
"Good because I'm not giving it back," Morgan said gleefully, admiring it with bright, avid eyes before sending it to her inventory.
Lancelot turned to face Merlin straight on, with Galehaut on his right and Kay on his left. "So what is the bad news you have to tell me?"