Author's Note: I was re-reading 'Behind Closed Doors' today. This idea struck me. I wrote the whole thing in about two hours.
Don't ask why or how. I'm pretty sure the answers aren't anything I can give. Consider it a surprise for Beams, for beta-ing my contest entry for this year.
Thanks, Beam! Read this, and see exactly how my mind works and know that it's largely because of you.
Arthur Pendragon, King of Knights, Lord of Britain, and Master of the Round Table of Camelot, nodded his approval. “Well, done, Sir Bedivere. The plan of assault that thou hast suggested shalt indeed be a winning strategy, as all thy bold tactics are. Tomorrow, we shall ride forth and drive the Vikings from our shores, afore they lay waste to our kingdom.”
*
Family Affairs
*
“My thanks to thee, milord,” said Bedivere, nodding his gratitude. “Though thine amazing power dost all too often render mine tactics pointless indeed!”
“Nay indeed,” Arthur said, shaking his head gravely. “Though I may strike down a thousand foes, I am still but the leader. For true victory to be achieved, the power of my warriors is needed as well, that we may all face our enemies with our combined might. The Knights of the Round Table stand united 'gainst all foes.”
“This news does me well, for I find myself in dire need of aid, Majesty!” said a new voice, entering the war room. The great doors of the hall had swung open to reveal a tall, pale man, fair of face yet with the powerful arms and broad shoulders of a born warrior, clad in magnificent ebon armor. By his side was a smaller figure, hooded and cloaked.
“Sir Lancelot?” Arthur asked, his eyes widening. “Long hast thou been afield from Camelot, my greatest knight. We had begun to fear some peril had befallen thee. Wert our fears correct after all?”
“I fear 'tis a sensitive matter, milord, and one that I cannot discuss even before mine brothers in arms,” Lancelot said, nodding at Sir Bedivere in respect.
“Of course. Our tactical discussions for the even have completed, and I should go forth to rest for the morrow's battle. I wish thee well, Sir Lancelot. My liege,” Bedivere said, bowing deeply to his king and leaving the room.
The three figures remaining in the room waited until long after the door had shut, letting the sound of the knight's footsteps fade away before they sat at the table to speak. The small figure with Lancelot remained hooded and cloaked, to Arthur's curiosity, but the King presumed this would be explained by the noble knight.
“First, milady...” Lancelot began.
“Sir Lancelot!” Arthur... or rather, Arturia... gasped, her face falling in dismay. “Be more cautious!”
“Worry not, milady, my young companion is aware of thy nature. Gifted is he, and wise beyond his years,” Lancelot said. “Also I perhaps referred to thee by thy true gender by accident during our trip here.”
Arturia sighed. “Lancelot, 'twas intensely careless of thee. Thy young companion can be trusted, at least, I should hope?”
“Well... aye,” Lancelot said doubtfully. “In fact, 'tis what I had hoped to speak to thee about, and the aspect which I find myself in need of thine aid, my liege.”
“Very well, speak thy case,” Arturia said.
“Well,” Lancelot, “Rememberest thou the even, some years past, which I attended the feast at the hall of King Pelles of Cormic?”
“Of course. Thou wert chosen specifically for thine charisma, to make a good impression 'pon the king,” Saber said. “A valuable ally indeed, he has been in the years since that fateful night.”
“Aye... well. Thou dost recall that, among other abilities, I am possessed of a variety of quite amazing dance moves, for which I am widely renowned throughout all the lands of Britain as Funkmaster Lance?” Lancelot asked.
“Of course, and a title well-earned, for thine moves art both cool and funky-fresh, for certain,” Arturia said, always one to admit the skill of her knights.
“Well, at the feast in question, 'twas a bard who verily did jam 'pon the lute, and I demonstrated yon sweet moves, and won the favor of the king's lovely daughter, Elaine. She did join me 'pon the floor in the busting of the moves, and verily we did hit it off. There was much dancing, much wine, and I fear I lost my memories of much of the night, afore I woke in my chambers the next morn in the nude.”
“... Oh, no,” Arturia said, rubbing her temples in the knowledge of what was to come.
“At the moment, I thought little of it,” Lancelot said, “But in my travels these last few months, I returned to the lands of King Pelles, and met Elaine again after a separation of nigh unto ten years. We spoke, briefly, and verily she did introduce me to... well, this is a bit awkward...”
“Lancelot,” Arturia growled. “I shall ask thee plainly, since thou wilt dance about the topic all the night if allowed. Didst thou or didst thou not enter the lady Elaine with thine manhood?”
Lancelot winced. “I... I shall leave the answering of this to mine son, Galahad,” he said, pulling the hood back on the youth he had entered with, revealing a boy who looked like a very young Lancelot, but with soft golden hair instead of his father's dark locks.
“Hail, King Arthur!” the youth said cheerfully. “Long have I heard the stories of thine greatness and glory!”
“Yes, wonderful,” Arturia said briefly before turning back to Lancelot and shrieking, “THY SON?!”
“Milady, if the volume of thy voice could please be watched...” Lancelot squeaked.
“Nay, Sir Lancelot! Nay, I shalt not lower mine voice, for my fury knows no bounds!” Arturia shrieked. “Once again, thy propensity for impaling the ladies of the royal court upon thy indiscriminate manhood has led this kingdom to scandal!”
“No, milady, I 'twas intoxicated, and...”
“That is no excuse, Sir Lancelot! Again and again thy incessant rutting with mine own queen hast been overlooked! Guinevere hast been more happy since thou began thy... thy...”
“Boning?” Lancelot asked hopefully.
“Lancelot! Thou shalt show more dignity in relating thy relations with the queen of this castle!” Arturia snapped.
“But verily, milady, the queen herself has time and again referred to our relations as the boning of herself,” Lancelot protested.
Arturia winced. “Indeed, Guinevere's sense of propriety is not what it could be. Nonetheless, my point as it stands is that thou hast engaged in the... the boning of the queen for many a fortnight, and hast spoken often of thine love for her. Deep were thy emotions, as I recall? And yet now I find that thou hast failed to keep thy manhood in thy codpiece and verily hast engaged in the boning of yon lad's mother!”
“Deeply do I love my mother!” Galahad said cheerfully. “She hast raised me, and ensured that I have learned much of the ways of knighthood and chivalry!”
“Galahad, the adults art speaking,” Arturia said pleasantly. Turning back to Lancelot, she then snapped. “A pox 'pon thy unfaithful wang, Lancelot, for it has brought mine kingdom no end of humiliation and suffering!”
Lancelot sighed. “Milady, I swear to thee this 'tis the only time an indiscretion such as this has occurred, so please refrain from wishing a pox 'pon that particular organ...”
“Nay, Lancelot! Nay, thy forgiveness shalt be denied this even, regardless of the proliferation of thine infidelities!” Arturia snapped. “Thou wert allowed to engage in thine shameful affair with mine queen under the condition that she was to be thine only love, and thy hers! Now I find that thou art, in fact, a whore amongst men who hast betrayed Guinevere's trust! And her trust 'tis so very trusting, Lancelot. She has the mind of a small, baby squirrel.”
“'Twas an accident...” Lancelot muttered.
“Nay, Lancelot!” Arturia snarled. “An accident or not, thou shalt not be forgiven this time! The consequences for this action shalt be dire indeed. Thine knighthood shall be taken from thee...”
“Nay, majesty! Such would be a fate worse than death!” Lancelot shouted in horror.
“... and I am sorely tempted to draw Excalibur and take thy manhood as well,” Arturia finished.
Lancelot opened his mouth to protest again, but couldn't get out anything other than a horrified, pained squeak.
A knock rang upon the chamber doors, and a guard entered. “Your Majesty, Sir Lancelot, the men wish to greet their returning comrade, to build morale 'afore the battle to come. They shalt have a meal together, discuss the events of the last few months, and if possible, witness a dance demonstration from Funkmaster Lance.”
Arturia sighed. “Damnation, his sweet and funky dance moves remain the joy of all who see them, curse his soul,” she muttered. “Very well. Go and join thy comrades and build thy morale in preparation for the battle to come. Following this battle, we shall talk again, and it. Shall. Be. Unpleasant.”
Lancelot gulped, and practically sprinted from the room, leaving Arturia with Galahad, who was smiling at her in the manner of a puppy that wished to play ball.
“Galahad, thy father has been a thorn in my side for some time,” she said with a soft sigh.
“I love my father very much!” Galahad said with a bright smile. “He is a great knight and warrior who hath brought me hence to meet the great King Arthur!”
“Aye, he hath done so indeed, though indeed I wish he had not done so,” Arturia said. “I wish no offense upon thee.”
“And none shalt be taken, for verily thou art the King of Knights and the one I hast always most wished to emulate!” Galahad said brightly, his smile so warm it could have melted steel.
Arturia smiled despite herself. “Thou art a charming enough lad, I suppose. Tell me, Galahad, why didst thou journey to mine kingdom with thy father?”
“I seek to join in training with the knights of thy Round Table, that I may one day be a brave soldier of the crown like mine own father!” Galahad said, the sheer power of his optimism lighting up the room.
Arturia blinked a few times. Verily, this young man is like someone hast drawn the innocence from a thousand puppies and injected it into a single person. How indeed did such a boy spring from the loins of Lancelot? “So, young Galahad. What... what sort of things dost thou enjoy doing?”
Galahad smiled brilliantly. “I enjoy being pure, innocent, virtuous and friendly!” he declared joyfully. “Also, training to be a knight in the service of the great King Arthur! Also, spending time with my beloved father!”
Arturia sighed. “Galahad, art thou familiar with the concept of a man-whore? For this is the truth of thy father's actions. He and thy mother art unwed, I might point out.”
“Indeed!” Galahad agreed, smiling brightly. “But I feel that given time, support, and the love of his comrades and family, he shalt abandon his foolish ways and become a loving father!”
Arturia rubbed her head to fight off the steadily growing headache. “Galahad... if I told thee that thine father hast been... well, a confidante of mine queen, and that in his drunken bonings of thy mother, he hast betrayed her trust. And that I plan to strip him of his rank and banish him for this...”
“Why, that would shatter my young and idealistic heart!” Galahad said cheerfully. “Glad am I to know that the great, noble, and wise King Arthur would not do such a thing and destroy the future of a youth who seeks naught but to serve as her loyal soldier!”
Arturia stared at the young boy's insanely phosphorescent smile. “... Damnation.”
“Cursing 'twould be inappropriate, but as the great king thou canst be permitted the occasional slip!” Galahad declared. “After all, thou carry the weight of the entire nation on thy shoulders, and verily art the most skilled, wise, and strong of all lords!”
Arturia began to bang her head against the table. It helped, somewhat. Made her feel alive again.
“Shall I too strike mine head against the table, in emulation of thee? For thou, along with mine own noble father, are mine idols and I wish to be only a knight in honor of thee!” Galahad declared.
Arturia clamped a hand onto his shoulder. “Galahad,” she said. “If I am to allow thy father to stay here, thou must promise me one thing.”
“Anything, milord, for I seek greatly to be a knight in thy--”
“Aye, I hast caught that part,” Arturia said flatly. “The promise I demand from thee is that thou must be as thy father's keeper, and ascertain that he shall never again engage in his wanton rutting with any other than mine own wife.”
Galahad blinked a few times.
“Aye, I know how horribly it dost sound,” Arturia said. “Yet, it is the truth of things, and a status quo I wish to be maintained. Canst thou do this for me, Galahad? Canst thou servest as a tiny, exuberantly friendly chastity belt for thy idiot father?”
“As my King demands!” Galahad said, saluting. “Verily, ne'er shalt my father engage in copulation again, save it be with milady Guinevere!”
“Well done, young lad,” Arturia said. She stood, preparing to go forth to Merlin and seek a potion to cure her splitting headache, but stopped halfway to the door. “Oh, and Galahad?”
“Aye, Majesty?”
“Whenst thou art an adult? Be nothing like thy father.”
Originally Posted by LeopardBear
Reply With Quote
