Bound by Blade and Fate [Lansoni]

The moon hung high over Camelot, casting a silver glow upon the grand castle and its surrounding fields. The kingdom was at peace—at least, that’s what it seemed like to everyone but Sonic.

Lancelot’s words from earlier still echoed in his mind as he walked through the castle’s quiet halls.

"You should not have returned."

Sonic scoffed, running a hand through his quills. “Tch. What kinda welcome is that?”

He didn’t want to overthink it. Lancelot had always been broody, distant. But there was something off about him this time. Something wasn’t right.

Sonic found himself heading toward the knights’ quarters. He knew Lancelot would be there—unless he was off somewhere, sulking in the shadows like usual. Sure enough, when he reached the heavy oak door that led to Lancelot’s chambers, the faint flicker of candlelight could be seen underneath.

Sonic didn’t bother knocking. He pushed the door open, earning himself an immediate glare from the knight inside.

“Sire.” Lancelot’s voice was sharp, controlled. He was seated at a small table, polishing Arondight with careful precision. “Is it customary for kings to invade the private chambers of their knights?”

“Eh, when their knights are acting all mysterious and dramatic? Yeah, I’d say it is.” Sonic leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “What’s going on with you, man?”

Lancelot said nothing, focusing on his sword. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows across his face, making his expression even harder to read.

“Lancelot.” Sonic’s voice softened. He took a step closer. “If something’s bothering you, you can tell me, y’know?”

A tense silence stretched between them. Then, finally, Lancelot sighed, setting Arondight down. His crimson eyes met Sonic’s, something unreadable flickering within them.

“The kingdom is changing,” he admitted at last. “The peace we have achieved is fragile. There are whispers of something… something unnatural lurking beyond our borders.”

Sonic frowned. “Unnatural? Like, magic?”

“Perhaps,” Lancelot said, standing. He placed a hand on the hilt of his blade, as if steadying himself. “I do not know for certain. But there is more to it than that.” His gaze darkened. “Ever since your return, I have felt… unease.”

Sonic blinked. “Unease? ‘Cause of me?”

Lancelot hesitated. His grip on Arondight tightened, his posture tense. “I do not know,” he admitted. “But your presence stirs something within me. A conflict I do not understand.”

Sonic tilted his head. “Conflict?”

Lancelot turned away, stepping toward the window. The moonlight cast a soft glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. He looked almost… troubled.

“Perhaps it is simply my duty as a knight,” Lancelot murmured. “Perhaps it is something more.”

Sonic stared at him, his heart suddenly beating a little faster. This was different. This wasn’t just about the kingdom.

Lancelot was troubled—and somehow, Sonic was at the center of it.

“Then let’s figure it out,” Sonic said, stepping closer. “Together.”

Lancelot didn’t answer right away. Then, slowly, he turned to face Sonic once more, something unreadable in his gaze.

“…Very well, my king.”

And for the first time that night, he almost—almost—smiled.