King Arthur Fic: Ties to Bind (Resurrection AU), continued

[amari_z]

Continued from here



Bors was recovering from his hangover nicely with a few bottles of beer, a comfortable armchair and the television. He was barely feeling any after affects at all, and he was particularly pleased with himself since he had managed to swipe the last of the beer in the house. Tonight, he was definitely going out. There was no fun to be had in a house that had no drink. And no women.

He took a swig from the bottle in his hand and then looked up to see Lancelot walking by.

"Hey Lancelot," he bellowed, earning himself an annoyed look from Kay, which he happily ignored. Dagonet only rolled his eyes.

Lancelot looked around, eyebrow raised. "I see you're not too much the worse for wear." He smirked, although his heart did not seem to be in it. "How's your neck?"

Bors rubbed at it. He was enjoying being young enough again that passing out in odd positions did not really bother him. "As fine as the rest of me." Something was not right with the pissy bastard. Thinking to cheer him up, he asked, "Want to lay a wager?"

Lancelot came into the room, and cast a look at Kay's booted feet, which were propped up on the ottoman. "Found them, I see."

"Yes," Kay said. "Both pairs. Galahad turned out to be quiet helpful." His eyes glinted strangely for a moment.

"How badly did you damage him?" Lancelot asked, curious.

Kay smiled blandly. "Not at all. We only had a discussion. But he was kind enough to volunteer to clean the bathrooms."

"Which ones?" Bors asked, self interest piqued. His own was in quite a state.

"All of them, I believe. He's feeling quite industrious."

"You're evil," Lancelot said. He sounded admiring. Bors shuddered. He had gotten Kay angry at him no few times, and they were not experiences he liked to think about. He was never quite sure why Dag put up with the strange bastard.

"So, bet?" Bors demanded, wanting to get the conversation back on track. Literally. He gestured at the TV with his beer bottle.

"Horses?" Lancelot sounded almost wistful as he finally looked. His eyes fixed on the screen, watching as the horses were led to the starting gate.

"Yeah. Don't like to ride them, but still like to see 'em race. Odd folks, these modern people. So who do you like?" Bors pressed, scratching at his stomach. "Gareth there put money down on the grey."

Gareth shrugged from the depths of his armchair. "Felt lucky."

"They're gorgeous. But they're too finely bred. Their legs look too fragile," Lancelot said absently.

"They're only used for racing. And I'm not asking you to pick one for your charger, just bet on one," Bors said.

"The black. In the green and white colors," Lancelot said after another moment.

"You would pick a black one," Bors chortled. "How much?"

Lancelot raised an eyebrow, although his eyes did not stray from the TV. "What makes you think I have any money?" With a last lingering look at the horses on the screen, he left the room, but not before returning in kind the rude gesture Bors made at him.

Bors considered. Lancelot had always been a good judge of horseflesh. He pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial for the bookies. It was not too late to change his bet. He did love some of these modern gadgets. Bloody damn convenient.

~

Arthur had spent the evening with the thought of the phone call he needed to make nagging at the back of his head. He had intended to make the call in the morning, while Lancelot was still asleep, but it had taken him longer than he had expected to speak to Kay. Kay had been rooting under his bed and highly distracted. He kept muttering something about boots. By the time Arthur had left Kay's room, the car that had been sent for him had already arrived, and there had been no time to make the call.

Right now, he had no idea where Lancelot was and when he might, in his usual fashion, barge in without warning. Given how late it was getting, he had nearly decided that he should go ahead and lock the door and make the call (and try to find an explanation if Lancelot should happen by), when the door clicked open.

Lancelot stuck his head in. "Are you still working?" he demanded.

Arthur had to laugh at the disgust in that tone. "Yes, I've a bit more to do."

Lancelot came inside. "Uh huh. Well, I suppose no matter where or when you go, you take yourself with you."

Arthur felt a chill. "What does that mean?"

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "It means that you're a workaholic wherever you go. You and your issue platforms." He perched on the edge of Arthur's desk, his bare feet balancing on the arm of Arthur's chair. It should have been a precarious position, but Lancelot looked utterly at ease. "I guess it's hard work to take over the world."

Arthur ignored that and merely said, "It would be helpful if you started learning about these things as well, Lancelot."

Lancelot snorted, "The only power I've ever wanted is the power to govern myself." Arthur wanted to argue—Lancelot needed to start learning about the political issues—but Lancelot's tone told him that trying to talk about this right now would get him nowhere.

"Anything I should know about the goings on out there in the house?" Arthur asked after a moment.

Lancelot snorted. "Most of them have gone off to get drunk. Don't worry, though, I told them not to do anything I wouldn't do." Lancelot slanted him a coy look from under his lashes.

Arthur grinned. "Well, that's reassuring."

"I'm sure. I'm going to bed. There's no entertainment in this house. There are only so many times I can listen to Galahad expound on the horror that is Bors's bathroom, I'm afraid."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. Listening to him whine, though, you'd forget that he used to get latrine duty as punishment. These modern times have made you all soft."

Arthur sputtered at the "you all," but before he could speak, Lancelot prodded at Arthur's stomach muscles with his foot. "And speaking of soft." He grinned as Arthur batted at him. "When are you going to come down and go a few rounds with me?" His voice lost its mocking edge and he looked at Arthur seriously when he added, "We didn't have a copy of Excalibur made, but you can use one of the other swords."

Arthur swallowed hard and abruptly stood from his chair. The violence of the motion sent the chair jerking back. Lancelot came close to losing his balance, but he recovered gracefully, even though his eyes remained fixed on Arthur.

"I'm done with swords, Lancelot," Arthur said, voice harsher than he intended. "I won't stop you knights from practicing with them—I understand that now—but I'm never picking up one again." After his initial visit to check out the practice room, he had not ventured down there again. He was too afraid of the temptation.

Lancelot was watching him with eyes that had gone unreadable. They had discussed this before, but never so seriously, and Arthur had never put his position so starkly. Arthur withstood that scrutiny with difficulty, but he managed it.

Finally, Lancelot slipped off the desk and said, "If that's what you want." He went to the door, and said, "Don't work too much longer. After all, tomorrow's yet another day for it." And then he was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Arthur scrubbed at his face and sat down again. He had expected an argument, and he was a little disturbed that he had not gotten one. What was it Lancelot had said: "Well, I suppose no matter where or when you go, you take yourself with you." But the truth of it was that there were certain parts of himself that Arthur would happily have left in the past.

He sat still for a long time, trying to calm his thoughts and remember that he was doing the right thing. The necessary thing. When he felt as calm as he was likely to get, he reached for the telephone and dialed the number from memory.

"Hello? Yes it's me. I'm sorry to call so late, but I wanted to let you know that Robert is sending you a copy of the plans he had drawn up. I've looked them over and they seem fine to me."

He listened for moment to the familiar voice, and said, "Yes, I'm sorry. I've been a bit preoccupied."

He winced internally at the quality of the silence on the other end of the phone—he could picture the expression that would be accompanying it—and added quickly "We should meet soon, though, to discuss the next few weeks. Dinner? I'm not sure of my calendar, but that should be fine."

~

Despite his weariness, Lancelot only skimmed the surface of sleep until Arthur came in sometime later. He was only vaguely aware of Arthur's entrance and quiet preparations for bed, but when Arthur banged into something in the dark and yelped, Lancelot managed a sleepy query.

Arthur slid into bed behind him. "Shhh. Nothing. I just hit my foot on the edge of the dresser. Go to back to sleep." He wrapped his arms around Lancelot, pressing up against Lancelot's back, his mouth against Lancelot's hair. Lancelot let himself be enveloped in the delicious warmth, and tried to sink closer to sleep. Although weariness seemed to be pushing on him like a crushing weight, sleep was proving elusive.

After a few moments, he rolled over, sprawling over Arthur. His head rested in the crook of Arthur's neck, so he could smell the scent of Arthur's skin now. He felt more than heard Arthur chuckle and the feel of Arthur breathing beneath him lulled him slowly as Arthur's hands moved soothingly over his skin. He never felt more at peace than when he was in Arthur's arms. He had long ago stopped agonizing over that, and he would not start again now.

He had drifted closer to sleep, when he became aware that one of Arthur's hands was slowly tracing over a place on his side, over and over. It took Lancelot a sleep mazed moment to realize that Arthur was tracing a scar that had once been there. It had been the ugliest of the many scars on Lancelot's body: thick, twisted and rigid. The wound had nearly killed him when he had been sixteen. He had spent weeks in feverish delirium, but the worst part of it was that he had been alone. He had been left behind as Arthur and the knights had gone off to perform whatever stupid mission they had been assigned. Those six weeks had been the longest that Lancelot had ever been parted from Arthur. Until he died.

Although his limbs felt heavy as stone, Lancelot caught Arthur's hand and twined his fingers around it. He pressed his lips to Arthur's neck, and murmured, "Go to sleep." He finally fell into sleep himself before he could see if Arthur had obeyed.

~

He turned and was slammed backwards by the force of the blow. He looked down at his chest to find the arrow protruding and, enraged, looked up to confront his killer.

No Saxon stood there, smug look to be wiped away as Lancelot's sword struck through his chest.

No. He squinted through the growing darkness at the tall man holding the crossbow. No, it could not be. Disbelieving, Lancelot collapsed to the ground with both his swords still in his hands just as his gaze met his killer's green eyes.

Godsdamnfuck! Lancelot woke with a gasp, and lay still for a moment, hand to his chest and trying to get control of his breathing. What in the name of all the gods that Lancelot did not believe in had that been?

After a moment, he realized, thankfully, that Arthur was still sleeping. Deciding he had had enough for the night, Lancelot slipped out of bed.

What he really needed was a drink. Or ten.

~

Gareth hummed softly to himself as let himself into the house. His evening had been very pleasant. A nice supper in the company of a lovely woman. What had come after dinner had been even better.

It was only a few hours before dawn, so Gareth was not surprised to find the downstairs completely dark. He headed to the kitchen for a glass of water, but a movement outside on the terrace caught his eye. Scooping up one of the larger knives from a drawer, he silently eased open the glass door, but then relaxed as he got a better look. There was no mistaking that silhouette. He left the knife on the counter.

"Did you know," Lancelot demanded, not pausing in his pacing, "that there's not a drop of alcohol anywhere in this house?"

Gareth took in the agitated movements, and answered with a calm, casual voice. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Bors did get awfully drunk yesterday night. And you know how much he can drink. No wonder everyone took off in the evening. Tomorrow—or today, rather—is market day, so we're running low on a lot of things. Did you somehow miss Tor and Percival fighting over the last of the cereal?" Lancelot waved a dismissive hand. Rather than his usual smooth movements, it was a jerky gesture. Gareth rambled on. "I didn't get a good look at the kitchen. I hope you didn't make too much of a mess looking for something to drink. Dinaden's last day on kitchen duty is tomorrow. And he won't appreciate it if you ransacked the place."

Lancelot snorted, but as Gareth intended, as he listened, some of the hectic quality left his movements. Worked up like a high-stung horse, Gareth thought, not without affection. It had been sometime since Gareth had seen Lancelot in this state. Not angry—Lancelot was angry more often than he was not—but upset. But then again, usually there was alcohol ready to hand. Or Lancelot would simply saddle his horse and gallop off alone, uncaring of the consequences or dangers, giving Arthur fits.

He kept talking, keeping his voice matter of fact. "I think it's Gaheris's turn next to be the kitchen supervisor. What do you want to bet that Galahad ends up doing a lot of kitchen chores?"

"That's a loser's bet," Lancelot retorted. His pacing had slowed.

Gareth sat down against the house wall and tilted his head to look up at the stars. They were meek things here in this new world, not the fiery jewels he remembered. It was a few more minutes before Lancelot settled beside him. He fidgeted a bit, but eventually even that stilled. Gareth waited patiently.

"What the fuck are we doing here, Gareth?"

"Hell if I know," Gareth said calmly.

Lancelot drew up his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms about them. "We should be dead. We earned our deaths."

Gareth shrugged. "Maybe. But we're here, anyway. So we have to make the best of it."

Lancelot snorted. "If I had a coin for each time I heard you say that, I'd have been able to bribe my way out of the cavalry half way through our term."

Gareth smiled slightly. "Well, that was in slightly different circumstances, although the same principle applies. We just have to do the best we can. It's not so bad, is it?"

"I feel like I've been dropped into the middle of a strange forest with my hands tied and my eyes blindfolded and wolves howling somewhere in the distance," Lancelot retorted.

Gareth chuckled. "You always liked a challenge."

Lancelot's teeth flashed in the moonlight. "Is that what you call it?" His voice grew quiet again. "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. I don't even understand what the hell is going on. Is Arthur right, that there's no enemy to fight here? Then what the fuck are we doing here?"

"What do your instincts tell you?"

"Not to take either hand from my swords. I'll be damned if we're caught flat footed."

"And there you go."

"And if I'm wrong? If we're approaching this from the wrong angle and we're missing the real threat?"

"Then you're wrong. And we'll deal with the consequences."

There was a long silence, and Gareth kept waiting. This was just the test shot. Lancelot was really worried about these things, but they were not what had him pacing out here in the dark.

"Do you—?"

"Hmm?" Gareth responded mildly, not pressing.

"Do you remember your death?"

Gareth hid his surprise, and considered. "Yes, of course. It's what came after that which I can't quite recapture."

Lancelot was silent, so Gareth asked without any particular inflection. "Why?"

He felt Lancelot's shoulders shift in a shrug. "I wondered. It doesn't bother you—remembering?"

Gareth chewed at his lip. He had thought he had known where this was going, but they seemed to have taken a sudden left turn. Well, this was Lancelot. "No, not really. I mean, while I do remember, it's not really that vivid." He laughed softly, although the sound was not really one of amusement. "There's not that much emotion attached, oddly. My memories of being taken from home are actually a lot clearer. Strange, considering that they're far older."

He could feel Lancelot's gaze in the dark. "Is it like that for the others?"

"I think so. From those I've talked to. It makes sense, I guess. If you're going to go through the trouble of resurrecting a bunch of warriors, you would hardly want them traumatized by their violent deaths, would you?"

Lancelot did not answer, and his fingers began to drum on his leg again.

Gareth judged that the time for patience was over. "What's really bothering you?" he asked bluntly.

Lancelot's fingers continued to fidget. "Bothering me? What could bother me? I'm a selfish, self-centered bastard, haven't you heard?"

Gareth turned to look at him, completely startled. "What?"

Lancelot shook his head, dismissing the brittle words. "Dreams," he said at last. "I can't seem to clear my head of them."

Gareth settled back and considered. "Well, drinking is hardly likely to help that."

"But it's fun."

Gareth laughed and stood up. He should have thought of this before. "Get some real clothes on." He glanced at Lancelot's bare feet. "And boots."

"Why?"

"Just do as you're told, pup." Gareth reached down and provokingly ruffled curly hair, earning himself a whacked hand as Lancelot jerked away. "Meet me in the garage in fifteen minutes. We're going somewhere." He went back inside, expecting to be obeyed.

Heading to his own room to change, Gareth considered who to wake up and take along. Going on instinct, he banged on the door two down from his own.

Grumbling voices and then a crash sounded from inside. "Well, if you're out of bed anyway," a muffled voice said, "you get the door."

A few moments later, the door opened and a sulky looking Galahad appeared. He scowled at Gareth. "What?" he demanded.

"The house better be on fire," came from inside the room. That was Gaheris.

"You lot, get up and get dressed," Gareth commanded.

"Why?" Galahad demanded. Gawain's head popped out from under the bed covers, his hair standing up crazily.

"Because I said so," Gareth reprimanded him, but then relented. "We're going for a ride." Galahad blinked at him in sleepy irritation for a moment before his eyes lit up.

~

Gawain glanced behind him into the back seat. Galahad and Gaheris were still bickering, as they had been since before they had gotten into the car. When Gareth had said he was the one who was going to drive—in that tone of voice they all listened to, although he rarely used it—Gawain had expected Lancelot to win the front seat, but Lancelot had not entered the fray. So while Gaheris and Galahad argued, Gawain had calmly slipped past them into the car. The sound of the door slamming had startled them into quiet, but that had not lasted long.

In truth, Gawain pretty much tuned them both out most of the time.

Gawain's eyes shifted over to Lancelot, who was sitting behind the driver's seat. To his surprise, Lancelot's head was leaning against the window, his eyes closed. Gawain narrowed his eyes. He was asleep? It was unlikely. But then Gawain took in the looseness of the long limbs and the hand that lay on his lap, palm upturned and fingers limp.

Gawain had known Lancelot very well for a long time. He was actually asleep, and in an utterly relaxed attitude that Gawain had rarely seen.

It's because he feels safe,Gawain realized. He's in this enclosed place and he trusts us completely. He can even sleep through all the noise those two fools are making. He felt a stab of guilt.

He looked over at Gareth and caught his eyes flickering back to Lancelot as well. Although Gareth had not explained, it was easy to figure out what had prompted their outing. Lancelot looked worn and fit to snap and Gareth was worried.

"Does he know something?" Gawain murmured quietly to Gareth.

Gareth was one of the few that had been told. Gawain, Galahad and Bors had known all along, of course, but they had only told the full truth to a few of the others—Dag, Kay, Gaheris and Gareth. They had not even told Tristan, because they had all known that one word and Tristan would have gone straight to Lancelot. Tristan would never keep a secret from Lancelot. Lies breeding more lies, Gawain thought uneasily to himself. He dreaded the day that he might have to look Lancelot in the eye and lie to him outright. He was not sure he could do it. Galahad was not the only one who did not like the idea of lying.

Somehow, things seemed like they might have been easier in the old days. Even though they had been dying one by one, they had always been honest with one another.

Gareth's eyes flickered to the rear view mirror before he answered. "I don't think he suspects. It's something else."

"What?"

"I don't know. Or maybe he does sense that we're hiding something. He's no one's fool."

No, not usually. But Gawain did not even really understand why it was that they had to keep silent in the first place—only that Arthur had asked them to. What harm, really, would there be if Lancelot knew what had happened? Gawain did not know, but Arthur had seemed so serious about it.

Gawain glanced back again, and was alarmed to realize that the fingers of Lancelot's hand had tensed.

"If you two don't shut up," Lancelot said, speaking to Gaheris and Galahad without opening his eyes. "I'm going to tell Gareth to speed up and then I'm going to toss you both out of the car."

Gawain heaved a cautious sigh of relief. Even if Lancelot had been awake when they had been talking, Galahad and Gaheris's voices should have been loud enough to cover what they had been saying.

They reached their destination just as the sun was rising. Lancelot's eyes were opened and he was looking out of the window along with the rest of them. "How did you—?" he began to ask.

Gareth chuckled. "You're not the only one who can scheme." He pulled the car to a stop, and they all got out and moved eagerly to the rail. "I'm courting the owner of this place," Gareth added, sounding self-satisfied. He turned to wave to a tall woman who was striding toward them with a bright smile on her face. Gawain did not find her pretty—her face was too strong for it—but she had an air of competence about her, and Gareth did not much fix on that sort of thing anyway.

Lancelot did not seem to be listening. He was watching the horses. His interest seemed to focus on a tall, dark horse, who was alone in a separately fenced area. The horse had paused in his grazing and was watching Lancelot back. Without waiting, Lancelot slipped between the rails and slowly approached.

"I took you at your word," Gareth said to the woman, as she joined them at the fence.

"You're welcome anytime." She smiled at them. "These are your brothers, then?"

"Yes. Gawain, Gaheris, Galahad and the mannerless cur out there is Lancelot."

She seemed amused by their names, but then her eyes went over to the field and widened in alarm. "Your brother Lancelot's likely to get bitten. Or worse. That one, I just bought him. He's been ill-treated and he's vicious."

Gaheris laughed. "The horse won't bite him." The morning breeze carried back to them the low murmur of Lancelot's voice as he spoke to the horse in Sarmatian. The horse was listening, his ears cocked forward.

Lancelot stopped moving while still a few feet from the horse. The horse watched him, as though puzzled. It whinnied at him and then stamped a foot. It was the horse who closed the distance between them, taking the last few steps and then tentatively thrusting his muzzle at Lancelot's chest, wanting to be petted. Gareth's woman whistled low in surprise. "I've never seen anything like that. He tries to bite at me.

Gawain glanced at her, and gave her a kind, if somewhat condescending, smile. She might have sense enough to surround herself with horses even in this modern world, but she was not of their people. "Whatever shape is worn, kin recognizes kin. Some ties can never be broken." Even if you wished they could be, he thought, but then dismissed the dark thought.

Galahad, eyes bright, was pulling at Gareth's sleeve, like a child. Or a little brother. "Ask her," he demanded in Sarmatian. "Ask her if we can ride."

Comments

[borogrove-42.livejournal.com]

*Is still gleeful* ;-) I'm loving this even more. And the hints at what's to come are killing me softly. I hope the next chapter doesn't make you bludgeon yourself quite as much. *Places pillow between wall and head*

Oh, I saw the post about suggestions... probably too late, but I'd just like to say that seeing what they'd think of the modern holidays could be interesting, Samhain being reduced to a night of frolicking and candy and all. ;-)

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

Well as long as they're not killing you in a cruel fashion, I guess that's okay then. : )

Thanks for reading, and I'm glad you're enjoying. The next chapter is pretty silly, so hopefully no head bashing.

Holiday? Well, I'll see what I can do, but first I have to figure out what time of year it actually is . . . .

[sasha-b.livejournal.com]

You know my feelings on this so I'm not gonna expound on them here.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmsigh. *heart breaks* *lurves A/L*

*lurves Amari for continuing this series*

I'm so pleased you keep turning out amazing work even though you didn't want to really continue with this in the first place.

Beautiful. But of course. :))))

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

You like A/L? I didn't even realize that. :p

Nah, I just needed a push. When writing the first story, it didn't really occur to me that I'd write anything else (cause you know, I was writing that other series, and then there was that whole supposed to be writing a 100 fic thing ^^;). I knew that if I actually had to come up with a plot it would be loooong--and I'm not good at thinking up plot. But I'm weak willed both to suggestion and to the opportunity for crackastic silliness. Who can resist teh crack after all? ; )

[anitabuchan.livejournal.com]

*loves*

All the plotting! I'm desperate to know whats going on. But it's so good not knowing :). And poor Lancelot. I'm guessing that there's going to be a lot more angst in future.

At least he has a horse now :).

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

But it's so good not knowing.

You and me both. ; ) Just kidding. Mostly. :p

Glad you're enjoying it! And angst? Well, that might be an idea . . . .

Thanks for reading!

[shelley-stone.livejournal.com]

Another tour de force! I am completely hooked on the AU you've created. Please don't keep us in suspense. What the Hell is Arthur plotting that he isn't sharing with Lancelot? And.... Lancelot's ultimate reaction?!

Shelley

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Shelley, I'm glad you're enjoying! And what makes you think Arthur has told me what he's up to? ; )

Thanks for reading and commenting!

Ties to Bind

[(Anonymous)]

More, more, more! Trying not to hold my breath waiting - I know! I'll go write on my own stories - yeah - that'd be a switch.

Seriously - love the story, and think I know what Arthur is hiding, but maybe not?
EnchantR

Re: Ties to Bind

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

No, please don't hold your breath--I'm not that fast of a writer. : ) What Arthur is up to will no doubt come to light at some point. ; ) I'd be curious to know what you think it is, though.

I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reading!

[ivy03.livejournal.com]

sasha_b put me on to this saga (the shameless pimp), and I love it. Like, started reading it last night and couldn't peel myself away from the computer till I was completely caught up at 2am love it. (Guess it's a good thing it's the weekend.)

I'm especially impressed that you managed to start with a plotless, crack (and highly entertaining) snippet, and turn it into this long, angsty, plotty story.

Your Lancelot is fantastic. He's complex and damaged and dangerous. And it's so clear that Arthur, though he knows him so well, really doesn't understand him. Arthur's still trying to possess him - I sense history repeating itself very soon.

I love how complicated the relationship between all the knights is. Of course if you reunited thirty people who died over a period of decades, the interpersonal dynamics are going to be difficult. Friendships shifted, power dynamics changed with each death, leaving the "younger" knights surrounded by people they know acting towards each other in a way they don't understand.

And of course Arthur's in the center of this taking their loyalty for granted.

I was in a singing group in college, and saw how much the power dynamics within the group change in just a year. We several times had a singer, who had managed to establish themselves as a leader in the group, who people listened to, go on a year abroad, and when they came back found that things had shifted so much, they'd lost the authority they once had. Quite a few people quit over this. So to see that sort of thing going on among the knights, and see the different alliances, and the scheming... Oh, it's delicious.

And you are such a tease! Stop hinting already and spill! I have my theories about what no one is telling Lancelot, but I'm just dying to see Lancelot go ballistic. And see if Arthur will ever understand that his need for the man is possession, not love.

And the dreams... I have my theories about those too.

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

So sasha_b has been pushing the crack? Well, she should, since it's her fault it went from being this little amusing scenario to this huge, long thing. Really, I had another series I'm supposed to be writing. ; )

I'm flattered that you stayed up late to read it all--it's getting pretty long, so I hope you're not too sleep deprived. : )

I'm glad to hear you're enjoying the group dynamics. Once I went from pure silliness to having to come up with some kind of plot-like thing, it seemed obvious that this would be a huge factor.

Oops, sorry, I'm being called, so I'll finish replying later.

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

Okay, sorry. I have returned. : )
.
As I started to say, I’m glad to hear that the group dynamics issue seems realistic to you, and it was interesting to hear about your singing group. People are fascinating, but people interacting in a group--well that’s a whole other layer of amusement.

Stop teasing and tell? But that wouldn’t be any fun. ; ) I’d love to hear your theories if you’re inclined.

Thanks so much for reading and commenting. I’m glad you‘re enjoying the series. I noticed you friended me, and I’m happy to friend you back. : ) It’s always fun to meet someone new in this fandom.

[darklyscarlett.livejournal.com]

Okay, I've read this installment over at least four times. It's the best work that you've done.

First off, that quote from Balzac is simply perfect for the theme of this series: these knights are all in thrall to each other, wretched ones who've lost there hearts beyond their better judgment.

I don't think I could've perceived the detailed complexities of the various story arcs; the plot is what makes this series singularly impressive, and in a whole other league from most fanfic.

Where to start? For one, I love how you've been so consistent with Lancelot being the fulcrum for everything, the source of all the passion and conflict. Despite history being so Arthur-centric, you seem to know better, that's it's Lancelot's world, and we all just live in it.

The original characters have been blowing me away. On Agravaine, it does figure that this lifelong, insolent rabble-rouser of a loner would alley himself with the disenchanted, heartbroken, and bitter Galehaut just to get at his rival. I don't even think his hatred for Arthur and Romans factors into his thinking as much as him wanting to get to Lancelot in one way or another. He seems quite obsessed, really, for a man who has no real purpose other than what Arthur has in mind. I'm sure he knows that and resents it deep down. But it's the conflict with Lancelot that keeps him going. It seems that he just wants to be Lance (loves Lance?), and therefore can't let him be.

Your Galehaut just breaks my heart. Here we've got a boy who never really grew up, and never developed that emotional maturity and the perspective that comes from time when it comes to intimate relationships. I figured that would happen to all the knights who died as boys; they're now confronted with their little brothers who have become adults, and have now tipped the familial balance. The fraternal hierarchy has been upended, leaving many of them feeling impotent amongst their charges for the first time. Galehaut is still an angry young man, a kid who has just realized that he's lost his first love, and can't accept in. He's more than disoriented in this world -- he's in deep denial of it.

Glad you made sweet Gareth carve out a new life for himself. I think he and Kay are going to be key to the revelation and resolution of everything.

And thanks for my Dinaden/Tristan angst. Just when you though dying would get you out of the trouble you caused! Tris has a long memory, and it still sore from whatever is was that Dinaden did. I loved the way you introduced this conflict, and how Lance was so adamant that they sort their own shit out themselves, which is remarkable consistent with the character you've created. And now that the two scouts are on active duty again, it makes for so much pained drama.

Oh, and what the hell are the sleeping arrangements between the three G's? No doubt Arthur is wondering as well. Gawain seems to be living every man's fantasy here, although his hearing must be worse for wear.

You've ended this installment wonderfully, with the horses at dawn. Brilliant, fucking brilliant. Trust Gareth to have carved a most romantic, bucolic corner of this world for him and his best friends to escape.

Anyway, here are some nit-picky things I found that could be Anglicized to better effect:

the bookie = the bookies. The Brits always pluralize their single entities, as in Chelsea are champions, our side (team) have been recovering from a disastrous campaign, etc.

dinner = the event; supper = the actual meal. Although dinner out is now used commonly, there are some instances in which supper is still the fallback, like when it's an informal family meal.

cell phone = mobile. Always. This is the thing that was most glaring, I feel.

[darklyscarlett.livejournal.com]

Oh, and forgot to speak of the night terrors Lance has been having. Wow, just when you thought his R/L relationship with Arthur was fucked up, we get a glimpse of the virtual mess they're in.

This was really creepy, cryptic stuff, and added another dimension of richness to the series. As if I needed a reminder that there is the supernatural in all of this.

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

I’m glad you liked it so much. : ) As I moaned over the last weeks, parts of it were pretty hard for me to figure out, so it’s particularly nice to find that you approve of it. : )

I love how you've been so consistent with Lancelot being the fulcrum for everything, the source of all the passion and conflict. Despite history being so Arthur-centric, you seem to know better, that's it's Lancelot's world, and we all just live in it.

It’s interesting that you say that. The movie is certainly Arthur-centric, and I’ve always been more intrigued by (and empathetic toward) Lancelot as a character, but my recent foray back into Malory reminded me just how Lancelot-centric Malory is. Title aside, the book seems to me to be really more Lancelot’s story than Arthur’s--he’s the character who has a story arc while Arthur pretty much sits around reacting to things once he obtains the throne. It’s also telling that the story ends with Lancelot’s death, not Arthur’s. Anyway, not really a response to your comment, but I thought it was interesting. ; )

I’m glad to hear that you found Galehaut sympathetic. Figuring how to deal with his scene with Lancelot was one of the things that gave me fits. I was afraid it would be automatic not to like him since he was an upset to A/L, so I decided early on that he had to be a POV character, but figuring out how exactly their confrontation would go resulted in some nice dents in my walls. This was the point where Lancelot basically refused to cooperate. I think he was afraid I was going to turn him into emo boy, and he was having none of that.

So no mallet? Yes, dying is, sadly, no escape for the knights, as Dinaden has discovered. And getting Tristan mad at you is probably not a very good idea. Even Galahad seems to know that.

Gareth has always been one of my favorites, so I had to give him, at least, some pleasantness amid everyone else’s crazy mess.

And the dreams. I’m glad they’re creepy, I wanted them to be. And yes, there is plenty of weird magic out there, lest we forget that these knights are basically reanimated dead people. (I’ve once in a while envisioned a scene with the knights sitting around watching zombie movies and commenting, but we’ll see. ;) )

Thanks so much for the British translation! Will fix. D’oh on the mobile! I should have known that. : )

I can‘t tell you how much having you like the series motivates me to write it (rather than, say, watch dvds, or novel thought, sleep): ) I’ll probably be sending you the shopping story in the day or so.

[darklyscarlett.livejournal.com]

Hell, I approve of the three G's and Bors and Tor watching The Ring, or better yet The Sixth Sense ("Tor, I see dead people!") or something, eating popcorn and freaking the hell out of themselves. That may even shut Gally up!

I was truly blown away by this installment. So much nuance, so many emotions conveyed and real conflicts depicted amongst complex characters -- it really transcends fanfic and delves into psychological drama territory.

I can empathize, if not be completely sympathetic, to all the characters, even Agravaine. Here they are living a manchild-in-the-promised land fantasy, bound by nothing but their splintered loyalties to each other and by being outsiders once again, They are in Arthur's command once again, returned not of their own volition, with seemingly no purpose except to help fulfill some cryptic foreign prophecy. It's a situation that none of them are equipped to deal with.

Kay, Gareth, Gally, Tris, Bors, Dag, Gawain and Lance, the ones who lived to adulthood, have the perspective to conduct themselves with some degree of maturity. But the others are still fevered youths, hence the schism, the forming of the cliques amongst the knights.

You've made all of this very clear from the get-go, so I'm able to feel for even the bitter arseholes of the group.

And god, is this an incestuous lot, or what? Broken hearts a plenty here. Thank god you've given Gareth a girlfriend. And no mallet for the D and T situation; I'm with Lance in thinking they have to sort their shit out themselves. It makes for a more compelling read.

I'm glad you're going against the traditional A/L cannon. Really, Lance is too pretty and prissy to not have to fend very aggressive suitors, and Arthur can be a careless head case, oblivious to everything, so your approach to the romantic drama between these two is just ace.

I'm ready for shopping whenever you are!

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

Hah! Nothing will shut Galahad up--or actually, I'd hate to see the thing that would. ; )

I'm glad you're finding the characters empathetic (sp? looks weird--whatever). I've always understood the draw of wanting your bad guys to be BAD, but it's not really all that fun at the end of the day--why did he do it? Well, duh, because he's the bad guy! Well, that makes a certain sort of sense, I guess, but-- ; ) (Not that any of the knights are actually the "bad guys" in the traditional sense, exactly.) I have to admit, once I got a bit of a handle on Agravaine (and I have no idea who actually created his character and gave him that name, but what a great name!), I enjoyed writing him, since he gets to mouth off and say some of the things about Arthur that I was yelling at the screen while watching the movie. : ) (If I was in this group, I'd probably be one of those bitter arseholes, I have to admit.)

I feel like I might be slowing killing Ashley with how I'm handling the A/L stuff (and if this one freaked her out . . . well, that doesn't bode well), but there's no backing out now . . . .

And hehehe, Bors, mature? Well, I guess compared to some of the others. : )

Shopping should be along soonish, as soon as I stop being lazy and make some edits. Oh, and do you want to help me come up with some names? You were so excellent at it last time. : ) And don't worry we haven't heard the last from your boy Leighton.

[darklyscarlett.livejournal.com]

I guess when it comes to fic, Ashley's the romantic, and I'm the tragedian. My idea of beauty goes hand-in-hand with devastating truth and human frailty and fallibility. Guess that's why Open Hearts is one of my favorite relationship films of all times (really, even if it wasn't a Dogme film starring Mads in one of the leads).

I'm game for thinking of names. Hee -- I do love my boy, Professor D'Aubigny. BTW, did any of the knights choose to hyphenate their chosen new surnames? I'm thinking that Gally would, and Gareth as well, although for a completely different reason (he'd just reckon it's more plausible).

Yeah, like your Bors too. Very telling, that passage of him telling Lance that if he was really meant to be with Vanora forever, she'd somehow be here now, so he has no regrets about how it's all turned out, and is less hung-up on the past than some of the knights. Not too many relationship issues with the old bastard.

Anyway, I'm home all night, though will be working long days this week. Email me whenever you're ready.

Oh, and I have a coffee shop rec for you: finished Colson Whitehead's Apex Hides the Hurt (excellent) in one sitting at the branch of Joe's on E13th Street, between 5th and University. The Waverly Place branch is even homier (the one I was at is a bit narrow, and more News Bar-ish (remember that chain?).

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

Oh dear god, I'm expected to come up with last names for the other knights? ; ) Feel free to suggest any you want, as I have not the slightest idea. Email on the other names to follow.

I like Vanora with Bors, but I can't quite go with a mopey, depressed Bors mooning after her, so I picture him as being more philosophical. Someone besides Gareth has to be stable in this mad house, besides.

Cool, thanks for the coffee shop. Will have to visit. : )

[park-ave-pirate.livejournal.com]

Here's the thing...I read the first and second chapter/installment of your story. Then, the other night I was at a cafe surfing around (with high-speed) and thought "what the heck, I will read it all in one sitting". Well, my coffee was cold, my eyes were dry for lack of blinking and it got dark outside.
Holy noodles, chica!!! This is amazing/addicting/fantastic and has earned its crack-like-substance reputation. Oh, and I know all about crack cocaine – I live in the ‘hood!
You better keep the chapters coming or I will totally tell the loyal readers of my blog that you aren’t doing your job :o)

Seriously – amazing!

Jen

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

I had no idea you read fanfic--for some reason I thought you didn't [?] Anyway, I'm glad for your "what the heck" moment and doubly glad you enjoyed the crack-like substance.

And you are not the first to make such vile threats against me! : ) And as I've illustrated, I usually just cave in, so there will no doubt be more in due course. :)

[park-ave-pirate.livejournal.com]

I don't make a habit of reading fanfic but sometimes I totally get sucked in. I like good stories and that is what lead me to sasha_b's site and then yours in turn.
I am happy about your ability to cave in - since I (and the other readers) benefit!

Jen

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

I am nothing if not a pushover. ; ) Thanks again for reading!

Ties to Bind

[enchantr.livejournal.com]

Another wonderful, addictive chapter. Your Lancelot is the best one - I'm highly jealous. Perhaps I'll have to go whip my Lancelot into shape - anybody have a flogger I can borrow? ;)

Seriously - can't wait for the next chapter.

Re: Ties to Bind

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I'm glad you're still enjoying. Um, I'm not really into the flogging thing, but probably the best way to encourage him is through positive reinforcement? Give him some incentive to behave (i.e., Arthur), or he just gets stubborn. ; )

Welcome to LJ!

Re: Ties to Bind

[enchantr.livejournal.com]

Oh yes, right, positive reinforcement. Where IS my riding crop and that tin of Walker's Scottish Shortbread???
;)

[evil-jacquie.livejournal.com]

Squees joyfully, I got this far last night before my eyes just refused to stay open, since it was after midnight and I have to get up at 6am everyday I gave in to Morpheus and went to bed. But just let me tell you, this is a wonderful world you are making!

I adore the way you write Arthur and Lancelot, I've seldom felt so comfortable with either. You balance Lancelot's snarkiness and Arthur's idealism beautifully.

And then there are the rest of the knights! OMG!! What to say about a Tristan that knows underground arms dealers and the 3 G's! They have changed just enough to fit into the modern AU but are still such true characterizations, and then there is Bors - actually he hasn't changed much at all has he? Perfection!

I was worried I'd be overwhelmed by all the new knights, I mean to go from 7 to 40, wow very ambitious, but I am really enjoying Kay, Dinadin, Gaheris and the rest! Very interesting that some of them never really got to know and love Arthur, can't wait to see what they are up to.

Anyway just wanted to let you know how much I am enjoying this. I think we have several friends in common and belong to some of the same communities and I am reccing this to some of my other KA friends over at Pointed Swords - hope you don't mind? I'm sure I will have another late night of reading tonight (YAY!!) I am also crediting you with getting me back into writing some KA - I haven't done much with it lately, I'd forgotten how much I love the knights. So thank you very much for that too.

[amari-z.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you're enjoying it! I've been having fun with the OC knights, so I'm really happy to hear that you like them. :) It's interesting to think about how their experiences would have varied based on when they died; it didn't seem likely to me that those who had died earlier on would have been as much Arthur's knights as those who died later--how could they be?

That's a great compliment if I've helped inspire you to write--yeah for more ka fic!

And why would I mind if you like it enough to rec it? Please go ahead. :D

Thanks so much for letting me know that you're reading and for your wonderful comments!!