Chapter Text
Normally, the fresh smell of spring, courtesy of the aromatic wisteria would serve to comfort him. Even with his stolid face and stringent posture, one befitting of a knight, he was not impervious to the smell of fresh grass, birthed from a ferocious winter.
Under normal circumstances, he’d take great pleasure in both the smell of the air and the ambiance around him, letting spring grace all his senses. But today was an exception, nothing could quell the thoughts that racked his aching head, not even the smell of lilac that reminded him of his mother. For the king had called him.
The self-proclaimed ‘closest and most trusted knight’ to the king had found himself uniquely nervous in his presence as of late. It was strange, given the longevity of their relationship, spanning years, through times of halcyon and strife. He always unabashedly revered his king, much to the amusement of his brothers and sisters in arms, but, it was just that, reverence. His deep respect for him couldn’t be the origin of his strange affliction.
Maybe it started with the strange name Arthur bestowed upon himself, Sonic. So strange to jump from Arthur, to the pseudonym Knave, to Sonic, knight for the wind. It was when he adopted his new title that his confidence around the king was stripped away from his grasp.
The name knave was an epithet for unwavering sympathy shown even when he proved himself to be unworthy. He had disgraced himself, that forest should’ve been his permanent grave for such a careless blunder, and yet he only took his sword.
And again, when the kingdom was in turmoil and Lancelot was at a loss as for what to do, acting like a coward who had lost his way, it was his valiant king who pushed him to keep going. He never doubted Arthur, Sonic’s, courage but seeing it in all its splendor, towering over whatever enemy thought themself great enough to oppose him. But it seemed his sheer determination was enough to overpower even the greatest foe.
Such a marvelous man he was, and though even he was well aware of his magnanimous disposition, he was still well humbled. Lancelot would kneel to him, ready to devote his life to his benevolent king, and yet he’d take his thumb under his chin and lift him up to his feet. In moments like that he knew the gods above watched over him, as he didn’t know who else to thank for the fact that a visor sat over most of his features.
Lancelot already knew what he’d say. “Lance, you don’t have to do that y’know? It’s just me.” It’s just me.. that delightfully informal speech down to the nickname had his heart palpitating. Oh my liege, what have you done to me? What incantation did the witch utter to place this curse on him!
As he ascended the steps of the castle, now at a state that it was recognizable from the ruins, his heart palpated, practically beating against the metal of his armor. He should fear his lord as a child fears their parents, out of a place of respect, but this wasn’t the same species. He both feared and yearned for his company, his legs growing weak but his body strengthened with adrenalin. Something as simple as his voice made the strongest aphrodisiac, his eyes locked on to his had him frozen in place, and the wonderful lips of Dionysus, promising to be ever so intoxicating.
He dragged his iron-clad legs across the bridge taking him to the castle, taking in the salty smell of the ocean. Oh, how he wished for the king's respect. The difficult Sir Gawain would point out his obsequious adulation in an attempt to mock him, but his glower wouldn’t falter, he would walk off and continue in his servitude to the king.
If the king were to dismiss him, he couldn’t imagine what to do with himself. He didn’t mean to be pessimistic but, what if? He adored his position, working right next to the king as his dutiful knight. He was at his every beck and call and was perfectly happy to do so, it gave him purpose, it gifted him honor and it had him at Sonic’s side whenever he may need him.
So why now all this trepidation? Surely, the king wouldn’t approve of his caitiff, but, this was Sonic we were talking about, the one who championed the secular belief that a knight’s life was worth more than simple subservience.
He no longer had time to think, he stood still in front of the grandiose doors that held his highness. The servants had opened them, Lancelot couldn’t help but cringe at them as they bowed to him. He didn’t grimace at them, he grimaced at their job. His king had urged them to retire, obviously put off by the idea of servants, yet they returned day after day, opening doors, ready to serve. It was all his doing, his influence on Lancelot du Lac palpable.
There he was. He didn’t have to try, he was simply glorious.
Even with his illustrious castle as his backdrop, he smiled so warmly, a smile reserved just for Lancelot. He was standing on a literal platform, apparently opposed to sitting on the throne. A smile for such a humbled knight, so strange with a castle outfitted with chandeliers and stained glass.
The glass was a new feature to be added, requested by the king himself. Lancelot thought it was a strange decision, wasn’t stained glass more fitting of a cathedral? But he understood his reasoning when he saw how the vivid colors of the glass reflected through the sunshine, dancing on the monarch's coat. Though really, he shouldn’t have questioned his judgment in the first place.
As he approached him, the hammering of his heart created a tunnel vision effect fixated on him. He felt the overwhelming urge to bow, signifying his respect, but as he started to kneel, Lancelot could see the disappointment mounting on his features and instantly pulled himself back up to his feet, the radiant smile returning to its owner.
“Hey Lance! Glad you’re finally here!” He beamed, skipping over to address him. He had a peculiar habit of never minding personal space and a speech pattern so strange, Lancelot couldn't fathom how it suddenly came to be. But, all his idiosyncrasies only quickened the pace of Lancelot’s overactive heart, feeling the blood accumulate beneath his cheeks.
Sonic cocked his head. Oh, how precious you are to me! “You ok there buddy? You’re lookin’ a little red there.”
He slightly hung his head in his chagrin, not knowing his strange ailment had flared up again. “I assure you I am in perfect health, sire. I have come upon hearing that my king has requested my presence.”
Playfully, Sonic flicked Lancelot’s nose with a cheeky smile. “Lancelot.. always so formal. Just wanted to see if you were up for a race?”
Relief washed over him like a warm bath, calming his heart and mind in its simplicity. He smiled a demure grin until it shifted into a smirk “Then a race it shall be.” He only saw it for a split second, it bearly registered in his mind as he dashed forth, but in one of the panes of unfinished glass he saw his own Arondight.