Well, here's the next one. Before I start, this one does take place AFTER the movie. Unlike my other ones. But, haha, I don't think I could ever entirely write a story without Lancelot. So um, that's what this chapter is for basically, and you'll see. It'll pick up in the next chapter, sorry this one is so short, but I wanted to introduce stuff and get them lost LOL. Ok, enjoy.
Chapter 1 – King's Horse
The field before the fort looked exactly the same as it had before the battle of Badon Hill. Where it had been burnt, the grass had grown back and it didn't even seem as if there had been a battle there. Everyone that lived there knew different, but in the morning sun of that day, they could forget for a moment the bodies buried beneath the earth.
Artorius Castus Pendragon, titled the King of Britain for uniting all of the people under one banner to defeat the Saxons, rode out on the old battlefield. He often went for a ride in the morning as long as the weather held up (and even sometimes if it didn't), but never too far. In fact, for sometime the others, Guinevere included, objected to it, saying that it was too dangerous for someone of his importance to be out alone. Eventually, they found this wouldn't stop Arthur.
The morning air was cool, he was glad to be out today. A fine mist had settled over the field, making it look slightly like smoke still clinging to the dew-covered grass. Not only was it a beautiful morning, but Arthur was glad to be out riding in it.
He had been training and working with his new horse for sometime, the animal was becoming a very fine horse. Hadrian had grown much too old for anything but very simple rides and Prime Snowfall was found among the dead after the battle of Badon Hill. But it was time to move on. Lancelot's horse, Conquest, had been retired to the stable to breed with some of the mares. His first son was a black foal with a thin white stripe down his face. The colt seemed too little to amount to anything, but it was Arthur who picked him out personally. It was that horse which he rode now; far bigger and more powerful than the runt-sized colt he had been.
There was something else about this horse. Arthur had picked Hadrian when he was barely a month old because the horse had "intelligent eyes" as he described it. This new horse had a bit more than that.
They came upon a place that Arthur knew dearly, despite how it had changed from that bloody day. The horse slowed down, snorted loudly and then stopped, raising one of his front hooves off of the ground, pawing the air. Arthur slide off, his boots crunching on the grass. He crouched, reaching out with his right hand to touch the wet earth. Letting out a sigh, Arthur closed his eyes. It had been a long time since they had stopped here. It had been a long time, but it had never gone forgotten.
A snort from his horse brought Arthur's attention back to the present. The animal plodded over, nuzzling his other hand gently. He was anxious to continue their ride, but know that his rider would probably want to stop here. Arthur looked up at him and smiled sadly. "You're right," he said, standing up, "Let's go, Lancelot."
Man and horse rode away from the field towards the forest. Lance allowed himself to pick up an easy lope. He had the power and grace of his sire, Conquest, and a streak of stubbornness that Arthur found was much like his namesake. It always made the Roman wonder – he knew his knights believed that when great warriors die, they return as great horses. A superstition; a simple legend. Yet it had been Arthur who had named the horse after his fallen friend, there had been something familiar…
The forest was mostly quiet that morning. A few birds sang, but not as many as usual. The horse didn't seem at all bothered by it, trotting along quite contently. Arthur, however, it seemed a little too unusual. Too many time had that meant something was off in the woods, something was going to happen. Lance didn't seem concerned, but of course, he was still green concerning matters such as this. But it wasn't entirely quiet. In fact, there was lots of life to be seen. Arthur let out a deep breath and relaxed, it was nothing.
It didn't take long for the fog to descend. It had blanketed the field first and then attached to the forest. At first, it was so light that it didn't really matter, but it quickly became thicker. Arthur pulled Lance to a stop, his brow creased as he looked around the muted forest. The horse snorted and chewed at his bit impatiently.
"I know," Arthur said to him, patting his neck, "We'll go in a minute, it's just…"
He knew they hadn't ridden that far and if they turn straight around, they should be able to head back. Or had they made too many turns on the way to this point? It was almost like it was a completely different forest.
Arthur sighed, "Let's head back, before Galahad gets too impatient and comes looking for us."
Lance knickered softly and nodded his head, his feathery mane tossing about his neck. They turned around and headed straight. It wouldn't be the first time Arthur had been caught in the fog like this. In fact, he remembered, Lancelot was the one who got them lost…the man-..not the horse.
The fog didn't lift and the forest continued when it should have stopped. "Did you get us lost again?" Arthur whispered half heartedly to the horse, who made no response. It would be midday now and if they truly were riding the wrong way, it would be a long ride back.