Happy birthday Sonic! Happy birthday King Arthur!

The sun shone bright in the clear blue sky on Arthur's birthday, its rays reaching down and bathing over his royal blue spines, illuminating them with flashes of gold. A soft breeze blew past, delicately lifting his quills higher into the air as they bounced in time with his footfalls.

Lancelot knew he was staring.

Inwardly sighing, he forced himself to look away from his king travelling in front of him, reminding himself of his duty to make sure Arthur remained unharmed in any situation, under any circumstance, even though they had made this trek from Camelot Castle to Misty Lake many times over the course of several years. Ordinarily, though, they would run to their destination at breakneck speeds, reaching their goal faster than most could even reach the edge of the forest.

Today, however, they were walking to their destination, as Arthur carried a large bouquet of white roses in his grasp, and didn't wish for them to become damaged en route. Lancelot didn't ask about the flowers; the instant Arthur had cornered him and asked him to come along to Misty Lake, it was evident they were for his mother.

The white rose… Galahad's growing interest in botany had left him with some deeper knowledge of plants and their meanings. This flower represented many things, among them innocence, purity, youth and remembrance. Fitting for having known each other for so many years…

...But bringing them along meant to stroll leisurely to his mother's domain, and it was taking its toll on him. Things still weren't fixed between him and Arthur, by any means. Lancelot had still been doing his best to avoid him, not ready to go back to pretending everything was okay and like he hadn't let his personal feelings get the best of him and opened up his heart, wounded and damaged but still beating, only to be met with silence.

Still, he couldn't avoid Arthur forever, nor could he refuse a chance to visit his mother. Or refuse Arthur on his birthday.

Or refuse him in general…

I must be some kind of masochist, he thought, resisting the urge to close his eyes or bolt off into the distance as their journey dragged on, with scarcely a word spoken between the two of them. Lancelot was shifting constantly between the overwhelming urge to say something, and the equally powerful urge to never speak again. In front of him, crimson cape billowing gently in the breeze, Arthur strode wordlessly, always facing forward. Lancelot couldn't read his face, nor his body language 一 he was so expressive with his hands… when they weren't both grasping at a bouquet, that is 一 and had no idea what was going on through the other's head.

Being around him again was delightful and agonizing and he had no idea how he was going to manage this for so long. As they had left the castle, Guinevere had hugged them both, giving them the instruction to take their time. "I've got a birthday party to set up and organize," she had said, "so please, even though I know this is difficult for you, Arthur my dear, slow down. If either of you are back before at least four hours have passed, I'm tossing you back out myself."

Lancelot had to wonder if that was Guin's way of telling him to suck it up and patch things up; she had seemed far too happy about the whole situation, and though he loved her dearly, he also wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her until she understood that it wasn't that simple.

His eyes wandered back to Arthur's smooth gait and the trees surrounding them, bringing back fond memories of times past. The burning question of What do we do, now that you know? welled up in his chest, flooded his mouth and died on his tongue, and they both kept walking in silence.

Seeing Misty Lake was always a relief, and today, it was a godsend. Lancelot's eyes took in the familiar fog hanging low over the waters of his home, feeling a sense of ease soothe the constant emotional turmoil he felt when he was at his king's side. He stepped to the side, sticking by the tree line, while Arthur approached the lake's edge, calling out a greeting. The mist parted like a curtain, and out stepped Nimue, glorious as ever.

"King Arthur," she greeted with a curtsy, as Arthur bent over in a bow.

"Long time, no see, Lady Nimue."

"Indeed. You know, you are permitted to visit more often, should it please you."

Arthur let out a sheepish laugh, letting go of the bouquet with one hand, using it to run his fingers through his spines. "Yes, well… perhaps from now on, I'll start having more time to spare."

Nimue giggled, looking at him warmly. "Come now, I did not mean that as an order. The life of a king is a full one, laden with responsibility. No one is ever fully suited for it, but I must say, you've done remarkably well, despite what you may think."

"Thank you… In fact, that's the reason I'm here today. I wanted to thank you, Nimue. For everything."

Lancelot watched, feeling shamefully voyeuristic, as though he didn't belong in the mix, as Arthur handed the bouquet to his mother, who took it rather bemusedly.

"That's very kind of you, Arthur, though if I'm not mistaken, it's your birthday, not mine. I believe you would be the one to receive gifts today?"

Arthur grinned that confident, radiant grin of his. "I've never been one for tradition."

"I remember well. Even as a child, you seemed to know exactly where your heart lay." Nimue looked down at the roses, smiling warmly. "How long has it been since the day you ran across my lake?"

"Twenty-five years."

"Twenty-five years…" she replied, a touch of nostalgia in her tone. "My how time flies, even when, to one such as myself, time means close to nothing."

"It's hard to believe," Arthur agreed, nodding his head. "A quarter of a century, and in all those years, I don't think I've ever properly thanked you to your face. So…" He took a breath, cleared his throat, and stood up straight, looking Nimue in the eyes. "Thank you, for believing in me, even though I've let you down sometimes, and rest assured that I will strive to make up for those times. Thank you for giving me guidance, for showing me my path, for leading me to my destiny. It… hasn't been an easy one, but with time, I've accepted and embraced it as mine, and today, I cannot imagine another path I could have taken. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for your magic. Thank you for all the times I've turned to you for help, with questions I couldn't answer. Thank you for Caliburn. And… most of all…"

Arthur's voice went much quieter, and despite still feeling like an outsider looking in, Lancelot strained his ears to listen.

"...most of all, thank you for bringing to me one of the most important people in my life."

And suddenly, Arthur turned around, and those bright green eyes were focused on him, with a look so tender and warm that Lancelot felt himself stop breathing as his knees went weak. He stared back, hypnotized, mind unable to process that look he had just been given, and even as Arthur turned back to Nimue, his heart kept pounding and his head kept spinning and what was going on? What was this?

"And so I, erm…" Arthur swayed from one foot to the other as Nimue waited patiently. "...if I may, I would like to, uh… ask for your… for your blessing…" His voice trailed off awkwardly, and in response, Nimue let out a jovial laugh.

"Of course you have it! You've always had it!" Her laughter only increased as Arthur looked at her in surprise. "Arthur, I've been around for centuries, and I consider myself to be one with a romantic heart in nature. After a while, one begins to pick up on certain things… and I've had a hunch about the two of you for quite some time."

"...Oh…"

Once again, Arthur's nervous hands ran through his quills, while Lancelot struggled to comprehend what was going on. What were they saying? What were they talking about? What was going on, why did nothing make sense, there was no way, no way, no way, no way at all that…

"Well then," his mother continued, plucking one rose from her bouquet and handing it back to Arthur, "in that case, I believe I should leave the rest to you. As much as I would love to catch up with you and my son, it appears you two have much to discuss." As she turned her head to look at him and send him a wave, Lancelot's brain felt as though it shut down, and he mirrored her wave like a confused, empty shell of a person. "Don't waste any more time… After all, unlike me, you don't have an infinite amount to spare."

"Ah, um… right." Arthur took the flower offered back to him, and Nimue stepped backwards and disappeared into the mist, with only her voice filtering through the thick fog.

"As always, the happiest of birthdays to you, King Arthur Pendragon."

For a second or two, Arthur kept looking to the lake, before squaring his shoulders and turning back around, walking toward Lancelot with reddened cheeks and a bashfulness that was so unlike him that it only served to further strengthen the incredible confusion in Lancelot's being. Arthur turned his head to the side, suddenly unable to meet Lancelot's gaze, even with the visor shielding the knight's eyes from view, and held the lone rose forth. "H-Here."

And, still a bewildered shell of a person, Lancelot took it without a word, watching silently as Arthur looked all around them, fidgeting and shifting from one leg to the other until everything seemed to come to a peak and he blurted out, "Let's race."

With that, he darted through the trees, and with only a split second to react, Lancelot followed, mind still blank and the hand clutching the rose coming to his chest to protect it from the air rushing past him. Running proved helpful, and the rhythmic breathing and sudden awareness of his surroundings started to bring Lancelot back into the present, but all too quickly, Arthur skidded to a halt and Lancelot barely managed to stop himself as well before he shot past him.

"Sorry," Arthur said, still breathing more heavily due to the sudden, brief, and intense exertion, "but I thought a run would help me handle things better." He gave a sharp exhale. "It didn't. I guess I just… before I lose my nerve. What do you think about all this?"

Just like that, Lancelot's brain threatened to shut down again. "I don't understand."

Arthur made an odd noise, as though pained, and he glanced down at the flower in Lancelot's grasp; their run, though short, had still taken its toll on the bloom, as some petals were starting to come loose and the stem was beginning to bend where it was being held, though the flower remained otherwise intact. "Guin was right," he finally mumbled, "I really do have to just say it."

Guin? What did she have to do with-

"Lancelot."

And suddenly those eyes were looking at him, still bashful but determined, powered by an emotion that Lancelot knew but couldn't name, because there was no way, at all, ever, that-

"I love you."

...

...

...

Did the world stop spinning, or did time stand still, or did everything get turned upside down? That sound, that hideous cacophony in his ears, was that laughter? Was Lancelot laughing? His hand flew up to his face, lifting up his visor so he could check, and yes, whatever that noise was, it was coming from him. His mouth was twisted in what was either a smile or a grimace and he couldn't tell which. Nothing made sense. Nothing, nothing, nothing at all. Was he a madman? Was he asleep, dead to the world because all he could do was dream?

"Lance?"

Then two hands landed on his shoulders, and there was ground back beneath his feet, and Arthur's eyes bored into his, wide with concern and dismay and fear, and the laughter stopped, just like that. Inside his head, Lancelot continued to struggle between the denial he was so accustomed to, and the absolute trust he had in his friend.

But inside his heart, the trust had already won.

"...Lance?"

"You… don't be a fool, Arthur. Think of your kingdom and your image." Bitter defeat welled up inside Lancelot like a tidal wave, drowning out all other feelings in a sudden surge. "Don't throw that all away for someone like-"

"I don't have to announce it to anyone, least of all to my entire kingdom," Arthur interrupted, suddenly stern. "And don't you dare say 'someone like me' as though you're anywhere below me."

"I am!" Lancelot insisted. "You're the king! I'm but a knight!"

"I'm a knight too," Arthur retorted, though the argument was weak.

"And must I remind you? You have a wife!"

"Are you joking?" Arthur's eyes narrowed in frustration. "Guin approves! She wants this for us!"

Lancelot started to shake as his will to keep fighting began to crumble. "But this… surely isn't legal at all, and-"

Arthur's hands fell from his shoulders, and it was enough to make Lancelot silence himself instantly. "Lance… with all this arguing against me, it's starting to sound like… you don't really…"

The words alone were like a punch to the gut, but the hurt in Arthur's voice pushed him to respond immediately. "I do. By the gods, Arthur, I love you with all my heart, but… someone has to think about you. About what this would do to you."

And though the words hurt to say, the way Arthur brightened up at his declaration inspired an indescribable feeling of warmth within Lancelot's core. His friend turned back to him, gentler than before, with that incredible tender look coming back into his eyes, trapping Lancelot in place.

"That's true. You're always thinking of me… so maybe it's time I did the same for you. Maybe it's time I finally did what is right by you, Lancelot. Maybe things won't be perfect, and maybe it won't fix any pain, but I know what I want, and what I want is to give us a try. If there's any chance that I can make you happier, even if it means risking my reputation, then I want to do it." Arthur's hand raised, and suddenly he was cupping Lancelot's cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over his scar, obliterating within the knight any last resolve to fight. "There's nothing I want more in the world than you by my side."

Lancelot squeezed his eyes shut, feeling so many complicated and conflicting emotions, but at the core of it all, he heard his heart. He heard Arthur's words, and Arthur had made his choice, clearly spelling out what he wanted, and Lancelot knew that it was his turn to make a choice of his own. He thought back to his code as a knight, to do what was right, what was best, to make hard decisions quickly and to reap the rewards and the consequences of whatever he sowed. And today, right now… he wanted to listen to what his heart was telling him.

Once upon a time, Guin had told him to take what he wanted if it was offered to him. Maybe it was about time he listened to her as well.

Taking a deep breath, Lancelot took a step backwards, sliding away from Arthur's touch for a moment to kneel on the ground. He gently placed the rose he had received on the grass and then, after a second of hesitation, slid his helmet off of his head, putting it protectively over the delicate bloom. He stood up, face entirely exposed, and though it made him nervous, he was glad to do it. He wanted Arthur to see him, to see the face he hid from the world, shielded by a title he treasured and the illusion of invulnerability.

Before him, Arthur looked beside himself with joy, and Lancelot's eyes widened as he, too, reached up, grabbing his crown and dropping it unceremoniously to the forest floor, and though Lancelot wanted to protest, he held his tongue, because he understood. He knew what Arthur meant. In that moment, they weren't facing each other as a king and his knight, but as men, as friends and partners, as two people ready to take a new step forward.

It was Lancelot who took the first step, reaching forth to put his hands on Arthur's waist, and Arthur mirrored him, closing the distance between them as his hands landed on Lancelot's back. For a moment, they simply looked at each other; Arthur's smile shone bright, once more like the sun in the sky, but so close that Lancelot was finally able to attain it. As he leaned in, so did Arthur, and as their lips met, a happy breeze whistled around them, as though the winds themselves were celebrating their union.

On her lake, several yards away, Nimue felt the stirring breeze and smiled, closing her eyes.

Your tale has been a splendid one, Lancelot du Lac. I pray that, from now on, it is a happy one as well.

*roll credits as Live Life by Crush 40 plays*

Wow. Just. Wow. There it is, complete, and here I am, at a loss for words to express how finishing this feels. There's a lot to say otherwise, and not much room to say it, so let's get right into it all!

First off, a fact! The white rose, among the other things listed, also represents loyalty, new beginnings, and everlasting love.

Next off, answering two potential questions!

1) Will I be making more works for the Sonic archive? Absolutely! I have two (potentially three) ideas: a oneshot focusing on Shadow (with Rouge and Omega as supporting characters) which I'll probably write all at once one day, and for those of you who like Sonic Boom, a sort of continuation of the cartoon… except now, there's Team Dark. It'll probably be a long-term work that I update every once in a while, with no set schedule, as ideas come to me. And (potentially) a third instalment for the Storybook Series, based on Greek Mythology, though that's a nebulous idea and I have… so many other things to write.

2) Will I be making more SatBK fics? ABSOLUTELY. I love SatBK and its universe and this personal spin that I've put on it, and now, I'm very happy to officially announce that after random bouts of ideas and inspiration, Tales of Avalon is the first part of a trilogy. I have ideas for a second and third instalment, and though I don't have set plots yet, I'm very eager to get started. IN ADDITION, there will be at least two shorter bonus pieces that will come before the sequel, both relevant to the series as a whole, so I do suggest reading those, too!

And finally, I just want to thank you all for your support. Whether you've been here since the beginning, or have only just found this piece, thank you for taking the time to read this work of mine. It means the world to me to see just how many people enjoyed this... I can't thank you all enough.

Catch you next time, everyone. Follow your rainbow!

~Smash 50