Arthur strode from the great hall, his papers and journal under his arm.

He was glad to have spoke to the others- getting more than one account was helpful- especially when the one account he had heard was overwhelmed by his guilt and sorrow that he hadn't been there, like he should have been.

No more scouting missions, Lancelot. You will be at ( Read more... )

Backstory - After leaving the Round Table room, Lancelot loathes to return to his quarters and chooses instead to go outside: He sighed and looked down the corridor leading back to his quarters. It was dark and uninviting - and the memories that had been brought up so recently were too close to the surface to risk going back down there. And being ( Read more... )

Private - Arthur leaves and Lancelot contemplates: As Arthur leaves and I'm left alone again, unwanted memories start invading my mind. Anything is better than these memories - and I attempt to stear my mind away.

Gawain drowsed for a while, warm and content with Galahad draped about him. Once the sun had climbed high enough to begin to brighten the room, however, he had to acknowledge that it was more than time to get up. He had not reported in yesterday, and doubtless Arthur would want to hear his account of their ill-fated sortie ( Read more... )

Arthur spread out his journal, reading over the previous entries ( Read more... )

Private

Arthur prepares to meet his other knights and readies for the morning.

private

Arthur dreams...and wakes.

Private: Vanora wakes with her child and thinks on the affairs of late...

They are warriors, the lot of them, and she knows them by the marks they bare

Private: Gawain awakens early...

Galahad's steady breathing calms my thoughts this morning, and I find that yesterday's worry has disappeared with the night...

Lancelot kept his eyes closed, lost in his memories - hands: cold hands, rough hands, unyeilding, uncaring; and pain: so much pain he could barely keep from begging - silent tears still leaving slowly from under his eyelids. Lost in shadows - he couldn't seem to find any light. He'd given up trying to keep them away. Futile - he hadn't been able to ( Read more... )