Lancelot and Galahad (Galahad/Lancelot)

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Lancelot, knight though he already was, had found his return to Camelot not what he thought it might be. Arthur seemed to be glad that he had returned, to augment his army, but he was not sure he would ever be fully accepted. Lancelot was not even sure that, in the end, whether Uther would accept him as a Knight of Camelot, even if he successfully navigated all of the training. He did not feel that the trust factor would easily be established with the King, and he even had the feeling that there was some question about Arthur's feeling. He had navigated part of his training to be a knight already, but he was unsure if he should try to go any farther.

He had surely not developed any friends among his fellow trainees as of yet. He seemed to be caught in a no-man's land between them and Arthur. They seemed to know who he was and what his history with the Pendragons was, and they all seemed to want to maintain their distance from him. It wasn't the most comfortable of situations he had ever been in. In fact, he found it a bit stressful. In fact, had found that he needed a break from the training routine, and as a result, he stopped by the Ram, looking for some food and some good ale. He chose a table off to the side, removed his greenish-brown traveling cloak, and summoned a bar-maid. Just as he was ordering his first ale, he saw a familiar face in the doorway. Noticing that most of the other tables were already full, he wondered if the trainee would recognize him or not. He had actually hoped for a peaceful meal.

[Galahad of Pelles]

Galahad rubbed his wrist as he entered the Ram not entirely paying attention to his surroundings. He quietly berated himself as that had been what he been training for this whole time and decided it was a much needed to make that a habit. Letting his gaze slowly lift to the crowded room he quickly brushed a hand through the top of his hair shaking off the mist of rain from outside.

Crowded may have put it mildly. Not a minute passed and Galahad bumped into two people giving a quietly apology. Tables were filled past capacity and some even opted to standing with their meals. Many knew each other and were talking across to one another but Galahad had just recently come to Camelot. He knew no one. He had kept mainly to himself. Not that he did not wish to become friends with those around him or acquaint himself with new people but merely that where he had grown up talking was seldom anything except prayer and hymn with very little conversation.

He quietly weighed his options, to either stay and wait or just go bed to sleep off the aches of training. But his stomach growled loudly and his decision was made. Still, to stand and eat wasn't going to be very dignified nor comfortable. But what other choice did he have?

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Lancelot was amazed by how quickly the room had filled up. There were never enough good pubs and inns in any town, he reckoned, and the Ram was generally the establishment of first choice. Of course it was in a good location and had a good reputation, for whatever one was searching for. That was the case whether it was food or drink or something else .... The service wasn't bad either. He had received his requested drink fairly quickly. But with the crush that was now upon them, he expected the wait time to be increased.

Looking at the appearance of the new customers, including his fellow trainee, who had just meandered in, he could tell the mist of rain from earlier had picked up some. Great, he thought. The mud was only going to get worse now. Lancelot was glad that he had come when he did, and ordered his food and drink. It was rapidly getting too crowded to even move between the tables. Yet, he still saw his fellow trainee moving forward, just at a glacial speed.

Finally, though, the man that he had recognized had gotten close enough to make eye contact, and Lancelot thought there was at least a modicum of recognition there. More like he had seen that Lancelot was the only one at a table that could seat four easily, not knowing of course that Sir Lancelot had already warded off two that had attempted to sit down at the table he had claimed. Lancelot was interested in seeing how much this young fighting man wanted a place to sit while he ate. The real question was whether Lancelot was going to be lenient in giving him a seat, or not.

[Galahad of Pelles]

Galahad was seriously considering if it was worth it before he finally made it to the center of the Ram. With a swarm of people in the room he had to press his arms close and any possible chance to turn around would cause more energy than he felt willing to give. The day had been hot and sticky and even when it started to rain the air remained humid. Stepping into the pub was of no real relief from the heat at all.

Just when he was about to start his long and strenuous journey to order something from the bar he saw a familiar face looking in his direction. His quick mind filtered through the faces of Camelot he had seen and placed the man with a name. Lancelot. Sir Lancelot. Well known to the blade and fast of mind. Possible route to defeat: think faster.

But that was of course merely a habit, Galahad thought. He wasn't planning on dueling Sir Lancelot anytime soon. Galahad had been planning a quiet dinner and he was to tired to even think of becoming acquainted with someone. But the urge to sit down and eat was stronger than to stand. Making up his mind he maneuvered through the crowd once more. Stepping his way close enough to the table he spoke plainly to the knight.
"May I sit down?"

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Lancelot decided that he had been both lucky and wise to come to the Ram when he had. Despite the fact that he had had to put off two unlucky lads he had attempted to sit in his space he still had his area of relative solitude. Lancelot, when he had arrived, was not just looking for some food and drink, but to get away from the training field. He was wondering whether it was worth the time and trouble. He had a feeling that Arthur, and particularly Uther would not seriously re-consider him for knighthood, no matter how he performed.

He had a feeling that he would just be as a foil, or as an example, for the other recruits in training. Speaking of which, he spied one of the more promising recruits that he had seen so far. After all, one of the first things Lancelot had done on the training field was to evaluate his fellows as to which might be the greatest physical threats to his well-being. Galahad ..... wasn't it? At any rate, he saw that the younger man had recognized him, and was moving through the storm that was the Ram, and was moving toward his table, still.

Lancelot Du Lac had recognized the young trainee as one of some skill already, but even more potential. He imagined that Arthur had seen the same, but of course, he didn't carry the same baggage with him as Lancelot did, so the Prince probably saw him more favorably. Should Lancelot take this opportunity, off the training field, to eliminate a potential rival. No, he thought, since he was close to give up on being a Knight of Camelot anyway, and stay a wandering knight. However, there was no reason he couldn't have some fun with this one, and who knows what entertainment it could lead to, he considered.

Lancelot saw the young man move toward the table and stop before him. "May I sit down?" Well at least he didn't try to force himself on him .... he was somewhat polite. However, he had not addressed him as he should, and showed him little if any deference. "And why should I allow an upstart such as you to sit at my table, when I have already driven two other off in the last several minutes? What makes you special enough, when don't show your betters the proper respect, youngster. How have you proven yourself worthy of such consideration, eh?"

[Galahad of Pelles]

((Hey so I got bored during my last lecture so here's the reply))

"And why should I allow an upstart such as you to sit at my table, when I have already driven two other off in the last several minutes? What makes you special enough, when don't show your betters the proper respect, youngster. How have you proven yourself worthy of such consideration, eh?"

Galahad furrowed his brow at the older man's reply. He answered again in the same plain polite tone he had used before. "I could have simply sat down than asking for your consent."

Lancelot's demand to know of his worth to sit at a table with him, like he was a God wanting to know why you wished to enter Heaven, didn't bother Galahad. While Lancelot was already a knight, Galahad was merely a recruit standing rather disarrayed in his small light chain mail with a torn up leather jerkin and dirty pants. He was filthy and he smelled most likely as he hadn't been able to stop at his room before coming to the Ram. Hardly the look of a noble knight. He assumed he was a rather sorry sight to see indeed.

It was understandable and he didn't take offense. That of course didn't mean Galahad wasn't tired and hungry. He was very tired and very hungry.

"I would prefer and I would assume you would as well that I do not eat standing over you and rather take a seat at your spacious table."

It made him uncomfortable to speak so much in such a little time but he answered Lancelot in a lower yet still polite voice.

"And you ask what makes me special but I tell you I am not special in anyway. I pity the men who were turned away for I am sure they have worked during this hot day just as equally as I have in training. But if you demand an answer of me then I would be inclined to tell you that I would merely prove my worthiness to myself and not you by allowing a few of these tired men a seat at my table when I have the space and even more."

Before he could help himself the name slipped from his lips in a very jabbing way, "Old man."

[Lancelot Du Lac]

((Been there, done that))

The question was .... how many glowing embers and ashes did Lancelot want to pull the young knight-to-be through, before letting him sit down? Lance looked at the young adult process the information and question that he had just proffered, and then he listened to his answer. "Yes you could have done that, but I would have just plonked you on the head, or otherwise end your life by severing the head from the body."

Lancelot could see by the way the young man held himself that he was probably tired, and without much predictive ability, one could ascertain that he was hungry or thirsty, or both. Under normal circumstances, the high spirits of the knight-to-be would have caused him to draw his sword on the older knight. Or at least contest the high-handed way he was dealing with Galahad, almost as if he owned the very table and chairs that he was sitting at. However, in Lancelot's view, the image put forth by this young fighter was not very impressive or intimidating, outside of his smell.

The young Galahad obviously saw that his first attempt had gone nowhere with Lancelot, so he tried a different tack, and he restated his request in a more reasonable and logical manner. "Now .... that makes some sense, although I would not characterize a table for four as ..... spacious."

Lancelot sensed that Galahad had had enough of this talk. However, he was apparently trying to the best with Lancelot's question as he could, and that at least, Lancelot could respect. Lancelot listened, and for one so young he had the strange combination of both wisdom and compassion. Laughing then, Lancelot responded to the young knight-to-be's statement.

"Very well then, take a seat, but only for yourself. If you survive Arthur's training I think you will do well. You already seem to have some of the knightly virtues .... fairness and compassion among them. Now, I will not say I am better than you, only more experienced and somewhat older. If you wish me to mentor you somewhat I would be happy to do so, or even ton be your friend, I would be pleased to do so. But that, of course is up to do so. However, with in that training ground there are no friends, just combatants. Old I am then .... perhaps you would like a taste of my steel then, eh?", as he began to reach for the hilt of one of his longswords that was sheathed over his back.

[Galahad of Pelles]

Galahad's eyes glanced as Lancelot's hand inched over to the hilt of his sword on his back but he remained stoic, unconcerned more or less. He knew he hadn't looked very intimidating, he never did, and he didn't completely understand any possible threatening manner he may have presented to the knight.

"I have no quarrel with you. Merely my stomach." He said unflinchingly, his own sword ignored at his side. As if to emphasize the point his stomach gave a loud growl of annoyance. "If you wish to end my life by severing my head from my body I simply request you wait till I have had a meal to fill my stomach."

Biting on the corner of his lip at Lancelot's offer of mentorship and possible friendship he said nothing, too tired to give the offer a lot of thought until he had at least some food and drink.

Turning his head he looked for a barmaid he could possibly wave down. When he finally succeeded to win a girl's attention he turned back to Lancelot with his full undivided attention, thinking it would be rude to completely ignore the knight after he had shared the table with him so... graciously?

"Galahad." He introduced himself holding out his hand at a tilt. He had sensed the prodding the knight had been doing out of possible amusement. For that he had been grateful. The very few recruits he had spoken to had, wrapped in their own exciting dreams of serving Camelot as brave knights, dismissed him as a quiet isolated fellow man.

But he had also noticed the low look the older man in front of him had been hiding. Still, it was not his place, and he asked not of it.

Sitting awkwardly in his seat he scanned the crowd, his hands wringing together in his lap. The life of the city still marveled him and pushed his limits. He was used to the quiet living life and Camelot was bustling and rushed. But he was kept busy at the same time and he enjoyed staying busy for it made him feel productive.

His eyebrows shot up and he pressed his lips together listening to what Lancelot was saying, realizing he had zoned into his own little world, ignoring the knight completely.

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Almost all of his words or actions had been for effect. It was an effort by Lancelot to get a reaction out of the young Galahad, if he could. He saw that the young man’s eyes were quite observant in watching Lancelot handle the bejeweled hilt of one of his swords. However, despite Galahad’s eyes being active, the rest of him really did not respond or react. He had good control …. He apparently did not get overly excited, which was a good skill to have.

“Well, empty stomachs have been known to lead to quarrels and more, have they not?,” Lancelot said. He did notice, though, that Galahad made no attempt to even look like he was making a move toward his sword, and his hunger was verified by the growl of his stomach. “No …. No ….. I resist wasting any energy on such a worthless act, and besides I have no desire to have to re-clean my swords after such a thing. Be-headings can be so messy if not done correctly,” he smiled, enjoying the young knight-to-be’s sense of humor.

He saw that the young man did not bite on his offer of help and fellowship. Well, that wasn’t much of a surprise. He remembered that trust was not one of the more plentiful commodities on the training field. Besides, the youngster was probably more interested in food and drink. However, Lancelot did have to remind himself that Galahad wasn’t too many years younger than himself.

When he had finished getting the attention of someone who could provide him said food and drink, he turned back to Lancelot and introduced himself. “Yes …. Galahad …. I’m quite aware of both your name and at least some of your apparent skills. It would be a poor knight indeed who did not assess who was around them and what dangers they might pose, eh?” He did wonder, though, what Galahad’s impression of himself was. Momentarily, though, he discounted it. It didn’t matter what others thought of him. He would march to his own drummer.

Lancelot watched Galahad look out and scan the crowd. It was a good habit to get into. That way you were never unprepared and hardly ever surprised. He wondered how many different places and experiences Galahad had had. “Is this your first trip to the big city. I’ve been many places, country and city, and even been a knight in other place. I just think my chances of becoming a Knight of Camelot again are somewhat challenged. In fact, I think Arthur ….. Crown Prince Arthur ….. sees my use in the training of Knights with more potential,” he chuckled for the first time. “I think you find our cross-section of humanity here a bit more interesting than your table patron,” he laughed, now openly.

[Galahad of Pelles]

Galahad smiled. I am hardly a threat to anyone, least of all now. he thought. He hadn't even gotten the stupid arrow to fly in the remote direction of his target today. Quickly his drink was brought to him and he took a long gulp before placing the cup back down on the table. Quietly he studied the man in front of him. They had all heard of the wandering knight. His skill matched that of Arthur which was an achievement for anyone.

"Yes, actually." He said his hands placing themselves one on top of the other. "My home was---"

A loud crash interrupted him and men began to cheer before they broke off into a bellowing song with their slurred voices dancing drunkenly around the rafters of the room. His lips twitched upward, his blue eyes consumed by amusement at the irony. "Less noisy."

As Lancelot continued he frowned in confusion. Challenged? Lancelot had already become a knight in another country and the rumors of his sword work was were idolized by many of the young recruits but Lancelot seemed to think he wouldn't succeed. That Arthur wouldn't approve. Was he under scrutiny for being a spy? Was his loyalty question?

"Why, if it isn't rude to ask, do you think that?" He asked his brow furrowing. He was even more confused with Lancelot's words.

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Well, at least the young man was able to smile. He might have ad a tough road to hoe, and he must not feel that much better now. The life of a trainee, even one for the Knights was never easy. He had seen the difficulty he had with the bow earlier. "I saw the challenge that the bow was giving you today. Its not something that comes in one day. I don't expect that it was even that way Arthur ..... Prince Arthur .... that is. You have to become one with the bow first, understand that the arrow doesn't fly a straight. It flies as if its try to use wings, badly," he smiled slightly.

So, it was his first trip. He thought as much. He was about to tell him where he was from before a loud crash interrupted him ..... blast! "Yes, it would have been difficult to be more, now wouldn't. I guess that boys will be boys," he sighed. "I'm sure that the Prince hopes his Knights will not be so ..... out of control."

After Lancelot had spoken once more, he could see that the young trainee was confused, and finally asked, "Why, if it isn't rude to ask, do you think that?" Obviously the young man had heard the stories of his exploits, but perhaps none of the other. "It is never rude to want to know the truth. Surely you have heard the stories, of how I bested Arthur in my training match, ending it with my swordpoint at his throat and him defenseless on the ground. What you may not know is that the Code says only nobility may apply, and I was not, at least not English. So I applied with a forged Seal of Nobility." he said, watching Galahad for his reaction.

"King Uther had already knighted me, by the time they found out, and he stripped me of my knighthood and sent me to the dungeons. The Prince came and released me, but directed me to leave and never come back. A magical creature, the Griffin, was terrorizing the kingdom, and I knew that Arthur was riding out to meet it, with the other knights. The Prince had provided a horse for me to leave in, but I used it to follow them to where they planned on meeting the Griffin." He watched and waited to see what is take on the hard-to-believe tale was.

"They had been unsuccessful, but I was not. I killed the Griffin with my lance, even though it was a creature of magic," he said leaving out the part Merlin had played. We returned, the King, although unhappy with my participation, was willing to pardon me, but Arthur demanded I be reinstated. A violent argument broke out between them. I decided that the only way to keep the peace was to leave, which I did, not knowing if I would ever return. So, you see, there would be a doubt whether King Uther would ever agree to make me a knight, and since then, the Prince and I, have been at odds over another issue, so you see, I have grave doubts what my purpose is here, and what plans the Pendragons will have for me in the end."

Lance leaned back, took a breath, and wondered how much Galahad had actually listened to. "I may not be a Knight of Camelot, but I still believe in its code of honor. You may wonder why I told you so much, and I barely know ye. Well.you asked a straightforward and reasonable question. It begged the same sort of answer. Besides there's bound to be enough rumors spread about ... you might as well know the truth, eh?." and :Lancelot took a long pull on his ale. His long speech had certainly dried his mouth out.

[Galahad of Pelles]

When Lancelot had finished his tale he waited for a reaction from him. Galahad sat back, his eyebrows raised as he scratched his jaw in thought. And then he nodded silently.

Impressive, Galahad thought. The tales of the barracks about his particular knight hadn't served him justice.

"I may not be a Knight of Camelot, but I still believe in its code of honor. You may wonder why I told you so much, and I barely know ye. Well.you asked a straightforward and reasonable question. It begged the same sort of answer. Besides there's bound to be enough rumors spread about ... you might as well know the truth, eh?."

Truth, Galahad was quickly finding, was a very rare thing to have.

Finally coming to a conclusion to the apparent predicament Galahad clapped his hands together softly and stared at the knight in front of him. "Well there isn't harm in trying now is there."

Suddenly his plate arrived and he quickly thanked the woman before glancing at his food then back at Lancelot.

"You of all people should know the difficulties and decisions of knight life." Galahad grimaced most certainly feeling his difficulties. From what he had learned so far of Lancelot he knew not to sweeten what he was saying. The knight deserved a direct answer. "You have a rare thing: a chance. Not many people are allowed such a thing. You know this first hand. You also have a choice. To attempt knighthood or to walk away."

"You may not choose to become a knight of Camelot, Lancelot," Galahad said sliding his plate to the side, and awkwardly transitioning from his formal manner in which he spoke to Lancelot. "But a wandering knight will eventually run out of places to wander."

((I'm sorry that one isn't as great as my others, work has worn me out and I didn't think it was fair to you to keep having to wait for my reply ))

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Lancelot had already finished his small meal, even before Galahad had sat down with him. He was the most interested in polishing off his drink, as he waited for his new table-mate’s food to arrive. Lancelot did not tell stories about himself, mainly because he did not socialize with too many. Gaining friends that you were just as likely to lose, or maybe have to fight against yourself someday seemed almost to be a waste in time and energy. Still, he was interested in what the young knight-to-be’s reaction would be. When Lancelot had finished his tale he waited for a reaction from him.

Well, at least he didn’t laugh or shake his head negatively …. that was a positive at any rate. In truth, Lancelot had been just on the edge of gathering up his few belongings and hitting the road once more. In fact, Galahad seemed to respond in a quite positive manner. “No, I suppose that there isn’t any harm, outside of the waste of time it may be. However, I might be given the opportunity to put Prince Arthur on his arse once more. Even though I may not have half a chance to be knighted once more a Knight of Camelot, I suppose that would be payment indeed.”

Finally, and at long last, the younger man’s food had arrived. For all of his hunger, though, he took some moments to address Lancelot once more. He listened and waited until Galahad was finished and had turned to his food, and taken another drink himself before replying. “Yes, I suppose so. In a short time I experienced many things here. I have experienced the thrills of training and becoming a knight, as well as facing the wrath of a King and the disappointment of a Prince, as well as the favor of a female. I, of course, faced down a Griffin, as well as been an actual knight in Wessex. So yes I know those decisions and difficulties well.”

He thought well before answering further. “Yes, a chance and a choice. However, compared to you I think that the chance is quite limited. It is true that life is just a series of choices, but often we are basically herded into the choices that we make. In my case, I think, the choice is merely to leave or to stay. The choice of being a knight or not, here, is out of my hands. I think that I’m merely here to be used. You, however, are different. I think that I may be able to give you some assistance in your quest. I think a young man, such as yourself, and one that has some favor with the Prince, with some mentoring, is bound to go far."

“The key, of course, whether you will have the patience, the skill, and the technique, to survive the Prince in the final test. I doubt, realistically, whether I will ever be given that opportunity again. After our last encounter, I have my doubts whether Arthur would ever give me that opportunity. You, however, are a different story. Why don’t you finish that plate, so that we can head to the training field, for some personal instruction, eh? Now, as to the wandering bit, I doubt if I will ever run out of place, anytime soon. Besides, if I do, I’ll just head back to Wessex, where my current knighthood resides. My heart, though, will forever be here, which, of course, is why I returned.”

[Galahad of Pelles]

"I would hardly considered myself 'in favor with the prince'." Galahad mumbled a bit of color rising to his cheeks. Deciding he had prolonged his stomach the pleasure of food long enough he pulled his plate in front of him and took a modest bite chewing slowly. He'd be lying to say he didn't have his own doubts. If he had made the right decisions. Was he following the right path? Which code should he follow: His moral code or that of the knights of Camelot. It had all been so much to take in at once but he knew from the beginning that if he didn't take it as one then he wouldn't have survived this whole experience and he would have left with his tail promptly in between his legs.

So lost in his own thoughts by the knight's words he had rudely only heard parts including,

"Why don’t you finish that plate, so that we can head to the training field, for some personal instruction, eh?"

Galahad choked his blue eyes growing wide not entirely sure he had heard Lancelot right. Lancelot Du Lac. The Lancelot that he had heard so much about around from the other recruits had just offered his services to help Galahad of all people. Quickly schooling his features he wasn't sure the knight has noticed his shocked expression as he kept talking and he hoped he hadn't. Humble as he may be, Galahad's did not want to appear as a naive recruit. Granted it didn't help that he was a naive recruit.

Nodding quickly he took one last bite before looking at Lancelot expectantly. He would be foolish to refuse such an offer and to be honest he was rather excited to finally work with someone other than an instructor. He had kept rather to himself and his fellow recruits quickly saw that and left him to his own devices. He was more than curious about how this would play out.

[Lancelot Du Lac]

Lancelot smiled knowingly at the younger man. "Its all relative. You don't see it, but others do. Plus he only speaks to some of the others when they make a mistake. He does the same with you of course, but he also offers some encouragement from time-to-time." Finally, Lancelot saw that his table-mate could no longer resist the temptation of the food that was before him. Lancelot had seen and smelled better, but he knew that it would do. He saw the doubt written all across Galahad's face, but it was not about the food he was eating. It had to be about some deeper issues that were troubling the younger man. He thought that if they were significant enough of issues Galahad would speak on them soon enough.

He saw that Galahad was so preoccupied, both with his food and whatever other thoughts that he was entertaining that Sir Lancelot was not sure he was listening to anything he had to say. That was, until he had made his offer.

It seemed that the young knight-to-be had stopped in mid-bite, and Lancelot was sure he had rarely seen such a look of surprise and shock on the face of a fighting man before, that is, outside of a sudden realization of their own death. Lancelot was unsure whether an offer of help was what was so surprising, or that the offer was coming from Lancelot. The somewhat older knight knew that the one thing he could offer the younger man was the self-confidence he seemed to be lacking. He would practice with him, but try not to give him too many tricks of the trade that he might use at a later date against him.

It didn't seem to take Galahad long to accept his offer, with a simple nod, once he had gotten over the apparent shock of it all. "Well then," he said gruffly. "Let's not be wasting any more time than we have to. Finish up mauling that plate of food in front of you and lets get on with it. It's a fair hike back to the training field so we best be on our way. You can use the time to decide on what you want us to focus on, eh?"