Title: Chivalry (or the 5 times Lancelot acted selflessly and the one time he didn't)
Category: Gen (Canon)
Characters: Lancelot, Merlin, OMC, OFC
Rating: T

Summary: Even from a young age, Lancelot was the definition of 'selfless', until the one time he wasn't.

Excellently beta'ed by sarajm

I.

The two little boys were playing in the grass beside the paddock. One was a blond-haired, blue-eyed imp with rosy cheeks; the other had a head of dark curls and soulful brown eyes that saw so much more than the average six-year-old. They had spent the morning playing "Knights" and the small farm had echoed with their battle cries and their laughter.

The latter of the two flung himself down on the grass, panting and red-faced, and called to his friend, "Johnny, lets stop for a moment. I'm hot and hungry and Mama gave me two apples this morning – one for me and one for you."

"Thanks, Lance," replied Johnny as he flopped down on the ground beside his friend and took the proffered apple.

Taking a big bite of the fruit, Johnny turned to his friend and said, "Lance, you're my best friend, right?"

"Of course, silly. We're the bestest friends ever! And we'll be friends forever!" While he had been talking, Lancelot had been polishing his apple on his shirt. It was now a bright, shiny red and just looking at it made his mouth water and his stomach grumble.

Lancelot was just about to take a bite when a high-pitched voice called, "What are you doing?"

It was Johnny's sister.

"Go away, Ginny," said Johnny, crossly. "We don't want you here."

"It's okay Johnny. I don't mind. Here Ginny, come sit with us," said Lancelot as he patted the grass beside him.

Ginny hurried over and sat down close to Lancelot. She liked her brother's friend. He was always nice to her, and he had a pretty smile. Looking over at Ginny, Lancelot noticed she was staring hungrily at his apple.

Even though his stomach was growling, Lancelot remembered his mother's teachings on being kind to others and sharing what you have. Lancelot really wanted to gobble down the apple like Johnny was doing, but instead he held it out to Ginny and said, "Here, you can have it."

Ginny gave him a shy smile, and with a small thank you took the apple from Lancelot's hand and took a big bite. Lancelot watched her with a smile on his face. He may still have been hungry, but he felt good for having shared.

II.

Lancelot and John (as they now preferred to be called) were thirteen years old and while their responsibilities at home had increased, they remained best friends and always found a few moments during the day to spend time together. As John's mother put it, they were 'thick at thieves' and were rarely at odds. That is, until a new family moved into the area … a new family with a very pretty daughter named Sarah.

Sarah was a petite, red-haired, blue-eyed beauty with a sweet disposition, and both boys fell in love. In fact, John was so smitten with the girl that every sentence he uttered began with 'Sarah said …' or 'Sarah's hair …' or 'Isn't Sarah the most wonderful girl? Just yesterday …'

Lancelot's feelings for Sarah were just as strong, but he was a quiet young man, always keeping his thoughts close, and so never spoke to his friend of how he truly felt about the girl.

Finally, after weeks of listening to John moan and lament the fact that he really wanted to ask Sarah if she'd go for a walk with him along the river path, Lancelot said, "John, you big dolt, just ask her!"

"I can't Lancelot. I get near her and my brain freezes up and I don't know what to say. Every time I open my mouth to speak to her, absolute gibberish comes out. I know she thinks I'm an idiot. Maybe I should just forget it."

This might be my opportunity, thought Lancelot. If John is really going to stop dreaming of Sarah, maybe this is my chance to ask her if she'd like to go walking with me.

Lancelot had been gazing out over the village while his friend complained, but the silence between them soon became too much to bear and looking over at his friend, Lancelot saw just how dejected John was. His shoulders were slumped, his face drawn and his eyes were filled with sadness and self-doubt. It finally struck Lancelot, right at that moment, how much John really liked, possibly even loved, Sarah and, despite his own feelings, he knew he couldn't stand in his friend's way.

Standing up, he leaned down and grasped John's hand and pulled him to his feet. "John, come on. Let's go talk to Sarah right now."

"But …I can't. I don't know what to say."

"It's okay, John. I'll do the talking, and once I'm through Sarah will know what a great person you truly are."

III.

The solemn young man was back, staring longingly at the dagger with the leather-wrapped hilt. The blacksmith, in his precious spare time, had begun crafting the knives. He was quite proud of his work and that particular specimen was one of his best pieces.

"Back again?" asked the smith as he approached, wiping his hands on a cloth. "You've a good eye, young man. That one is one of my best."

"It's beautiful," murmured Lancelot as he held the dagger up and watched the sun dance and gleam along the blade.

"I've seen you here a couple of times today," said the smith. "Are you interested in buying? It's only one gold coin."

On hearing the price, Lancelot returned the dagger to the table and sadly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but that's too rich for my blood; I've only 8 silver pieces to spend. Maybe another time."

Lancelot turned and started to walk away when the smith called, "Lad, tell you what. I'll make you a deal. You pay me 6 silver coins, and then help me here at my forge for the next two days and you can have the dagger. My apprentice is laid up with a sprained wrist and won't be able to return to work for at least that long. I've been struggling through without any help and your assistance would be a boon."

"Really?" asked Lancelot with the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Thank you so much. I'll do it. Now, tell me what needs to be done first."

And so Lancelot spent the next two days chopping wood, operating the bellows to ensure the fire stayed red hot and generally helping out in any manner asked of him. By the end of the second day, Lancelot was tired but happy and the blacksmith was thrilled that he'd finally caught up on his work. The dagger would soon be in Lancelot's possession.

The smith was banking the forge for the evening with a young man came running up. "Joe, wait!"

"Francis, what can I do for you?"

"I want to purchase one of your daggers. Theo is leaving tomorrow and I wanted to give him something useful for his travels."

"Ah, I didn't realize Theo was leaving so soon. He's a good man, your brother; you're going to miss him."

"Yes, that's why I wanted to give him something special. Do you have any daggers? I have money."

"Oh, lad, I've only the one right now, and it's promised to this young man," responded the smith as he gestured to Lancelot, who was standing nearby and had heard the exchange.

"Oh," said Francis dejectedly. "I see. Well, thank you anyway."

"Wait," called Lancelot as Francis turned away. "It's for your brother, you said?"

"Yes, he's off to make his way in the world and I wanted to give him something special," answered Francis.

"Well then, you should take it. A good dagger can be a lifesaver, and I know he'll think of you each time he looks at it."

"Are you sure lad?" asked the smith as he looked at Lancelot. "You worked hard for it."

"I know," said Lancelot. "And hopefully someday soon I'll have the money to purchase another one from you. But right now, I think the dagger is destined to go with Theo on his travels."

As Francis and the smith exchanged coins and dagger, Lancelot watched with a smile knowing that he'd made the right decision.

IV.

He was enamoured with the dark-haired, dark-eyed serving girl. She was everything Lancelot admired in a woman. She was kind, she was gentle, she was clever; she was perfect in his eyes.

Sparks had flown between them at their first meeting when she helped outfit him for his test with Arthur and since then, they had grown closer. But time and the fates had parted them and the intervening years had wrought a change to Gwen's feelings. Lancelot knew she still loved him, but he was also very aware of the growing bond between Gwen and Arthur.

He couldn't bear to see his Gwen torn between the two men and the more he saw the interactions between Arthur and Gwen, the more he realized that not only did Arthur love Gwen, he needed her. Arthur needed her steady and grounding presence in his life if he was going to become the King that Camelot deserved.

Lancelot cared deeply for both Arthur and Gwen, and so he made his decision. Early one morning he said his good-byes to Arthur and quietly left Camelot with a heavy heart, but at peace with the knowledge that his parting put his friend and his love one step closer to their destiny.

V.

Lancelot had been travelling the Five Kingdoms for many months and had been using the time to improve his skills with sword and lance in the hopes that one day he'd be able to put his talents to use in defending Camelot.

His last paying job had been a couple of weeks ago and the sad state of his purse meant that Lancelot would soon have to seek out some sort of position as a guardsman, or swordmaster or even as protection for travellers. However, he still had enough coin to see him through the next week or so, so he was not in dire straits yet.

He was sitting outside a small tavern in the town of Haverstock when he saw a young woman walking along the side of the track with two small children, one of whom was still a babe in arms. She looked lost and alone and Lancelot couldn't help but step away from his mug and approach the harried-looking woman.

"Excuse me," he said, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but you seem lost. May I be of assistance? My name is Lancelot."

"Oh, no … really … I'm fine … don't …"

"Now, ma'am, I can tell you're not fine. In fact, you look ready to drop right now. Please, I only want to help."

Tears filled the young woman's eyes at Lancelot's kindness and she said, "Thank you. You're right; I really could use some help. My name is Kara."

While she was speaking, Lancelot was leading the woman over to the table he had recently vacated and sat her down. He then leaned over and picked up the little boy who had been trailing along behind, and sat him on his lap. "And what is your name, young sir?" asked Lancelot with a smile.

The boy smiled shyly back, but didn't speak.

"This is my daughter Mary," said Kara as she rocked the babe in her arms. "And that young imp is my son, Ari. He's named for his father, the kindest man I … ever …" Suddenly the tears that had filled Kara's eyes began to flow down her cheeks and she quickly buried her head in her daughter's blanket.

"Hush, Kara. It's okay," said Lancelot as he leaned over and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Please … is there some way I can help you?"

After a few moments, Kara regained her composure and looked up at Lancelot. Her eyes were red and swollen, but the tears were no longer falling. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, as she shifted the baby sleeping in her arms. "It's just that their father, my husband, died of a fever only a few days ago and we've been left with nothing. We were tenant farmers and once he found out that Ari had died, our Lord had us evicted. Now I'm trying to get home to my family's holding near Killenton but we've no money and we've already been walking for two days. It's going to take another three days to get home and we're all so tired. I just … I … I don't know what to do!" concluded Kara in a plaintive tone.

Lancelot listened to the girl's sad tale and, angry though he was at the treatment they'd received at the hands of their Lord, he knew that his anger would be of no assistance to them. Rather, he needed to find a way to help them.

"Kara," he said, once she'd finished speaking. "Just wait her for a moment or two. I'll be right back." Rising from the table, Lancelot caught the eye of one of the serving girls and gestured her over. Pointing to the table where Kara and the two children were sitting, he said, "Please bring them some food, water or milk for the little ones and a jug of ale for the woman. I will pay for it all. And can you tell me where I can find the tavern-keeper?"

Ten minutes later, Lancelot returned to the table to see the little family sitting at a table that now held the remains of their simple meal. On seeing Lancelot, Kara said, "Lancelot, really, you didn't have to do this. I didn't tell you my story to try to get sympathy or food out of you. I'm sorry we ate so much, but Ari was hungry …"

Waving his hands as though to brush away her concerns, Lancelot responded, "Kara, don't worry. If I can help you out by providing a simple meal, then I am more than happy to do so. I've also got good news for you. There's a group of tinkers heading towards Killenton and they are willing to let you travel with them. And best of all, there is room for the three of you in their carts, so you won't have to walk the entire trip! When you're ready, I'll take you to their campsite. And don't worry, I've been told they are a family group and absolutely trustworthy. You'll be in good hands."

On hearing the good news, Kara's eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of joy. Looking up at Lancelot she gave him the first smile that had graced her features since the passing of her beloved husband and said, "I don't know why you are being so helpful, Lancelot, but I will remember your kindness forever. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us. If you're ever in Killenton, please stop and visit us. You will always been welcome."

A short while later, Lancelot, Kara and the two children arrived at the tinkers' campsite. The area was bustling with children and dogs running about, while several youths looked on. There was a group of women by one of the fires getting started on their evening meal and several of the men were examining one of the horses. On seeing the newcomers, one of the tinkers approached, saying, "Lancelot, well met. I hope you didn't have any problems finding us."

"Not at all Chris." Gesturing to Kara and the children, he added, "This is the small family that needs your help. This is Kara, and her children Ari and Mary. They are heading home to Killenton."

With a wave to Lancelot, Ari quickly ran off to join the other children at their play and soon enough good-byes and thanks were exchanged and Lancelot watched as Kara walked across the camp with Chris. Lancelot smiled at the group of children running around and shrieking, with Ari right in the middle of things, then turned and headed back towards the tavern.

Making his way through the village, Lancelot looked around him for some sort of potential employment opportunities. His circumstances had changed drastically in the course of the day. That morning he was convinced he had at least a week before he'd need to find some sort of work; now he was almost flat broke and a position must be found. But he certainly didn't begrudge spending the last of his funds to help out a young mother and her children.

+ I

He was a Knight of Camelot! Never in his life had he even dared to hope that one day his dream would come true. The past few months had been glorious and Lancelot had everything he'd ever wanted … well, almost everything.

Lancelot and Merlin had been friends for a number of years, and now that the dark-haired knight was a permanent resident of Camelot, they had grown closer. When off-duty, Lancelot could usually be found at Merlin's side, helping with some of the simpler chores, or accompanying him on his rounds for Gaius. In fact, the two men were so often in each other's company that it was a strange sight to see one without the other.

As their friendship grew and strengthened, Lancelot came to the realization that he wanted more. While the knight wasn't positive, he thought Merlin felt the same. However, he certainly did not want to ruin what they had between them so he never intended to act on his feelings. Until today.

Earlier that morning, Lancelot had been on duty down in the Lower Town when he came across Merlin and a young girl. Lancelot had never seen the girl before, but it was obvious from the way she was hanging off Merlin that the two were well acquainted. She was chattering away at the serving boy, laughing and twisting her long, blond hair round her fingers and Merlin had a big smile on his face. Lancelot had never been the jealous type, but watching the scene playing out in front him made him see green. So much so, that he turned away and stomped back towards the castle, ignoring everyone around him.

It took a few hours, but Lancelot finally calmed down enough to examine his feelings rationally. As he thought back over his varied life experiences, he realized that his mother had taught him well. He always put other's needs before his own, and while he did not regret a single event, the knight was tired of seeing everyone else have their happy ending while he stood on the side and watched.

Enough is enough, he thought. This time, I'm going to take a chance on my own happiness.

Knowing that Merlin could usually be found in the armoury at that time of day, Lancelot quickly left his rooms and marched determinedly along the hallways and soon found himself outside the armoury door. Taking a deep breath, the Knight pushed the door open and walked into the dimly-lit room.

"Merlin, are you here?" he called when he did not immediately see his friend.

A bang and a clank sounded, and then Merlin appeared from around a corner, holding a gauntlet in his hand. "Lancelot! Hello. Did you need something?"

Smiling softly, the knight walked over to his friend and stood close, almost too close. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took another breath and then, reaching out, he grasped Merlin's forearms and pulled him close.

"Whaa…?" stuttered the young warlock as he was pulled into his friend's arms. Looking up, he could see Lancelot's eyes were wide and filled with uncertainty and something else … could that be love?

"I'm sorry, Merlin," said Lancelot in a passionate tone. "I hope I'm not about to ruin everything, but I can't stand it any more. I love you and there's nothing I won't do to make you happy. Please don't hate me. If I've made a mistake and you want me to go, just say so." Then, sliding one arm around Merlin's back and using his other hand to gently cradle the base of the warlock's head, Lancelot breathed, "Tell me if you don't want this."

Merlin simply stared at his friend, he eyes shifting from Lancelot's lips to his eyes and back again. He didn't speak, but simply pressed himself closer to his friend and raised his head.

A smile graced Lancelot's features, and then the two were lost to the world as their lips met. What started out as a gentle, almost chaste, kiss soon grew into a clashing of teeth and a wrestling of tongues as the two men finally let go of their fears and instead gave in to their desires.

After several long moments, they pulled apart, pink-cheeked and breathing deeply. Merlin pulled air into his lungs and, realizing that he was still holding the gauntlet, dropped it to the ground and leaned in to continue their kiss. However, Lancelot stepped back, held him at arm's length and opened his mouth to speak.

Merlin smiled at his friend … no, his love … and raised a finger to the knight's lips, cutting off whatever he was about to say. As he leaned in to capture the knight's lips, Merlin whispered one word. "Finally!"