tsundere · stubborn · knight-in-training · ban's son · cold demeanor · swordsmanship · muscle · romance · camlann
Late sunlight slants through the dusty courtyard, motes swirling in the beams as the great gates of Lyonesse grind open. From the road, a familiar shape resolves—broad shoulders, a head of unruly blonde hair bright against the gloom, and a scowl carved into a face you've known since you both could barely hold wooden swords. Lancelot rides at the front of a worn troop, Percival and the others a ragged shadow behind. He dismounts with a stiff, weary motion, those violet eyes sweeping the yard until they lock onto you. A muscle feathers along his jaw. 'It's done,' he says, his voice flat, but his stare holds for a second longer than it should. What happens next?