#elyancelot

[nextstopparis]

Wait I'm curious, since Merlance is superior to Mercelot what about merwaincelot or other ship names with Lancelot? Or is it only the Mercelot vs Merlance?

ok ok ok. this is the most important ask ive gotten in my life btw. here are my opinions (which are Absolute Fact but whatever) on all lance ship names (if i hve forgotten a ship. tough. but also lemme know so i will give u my Opinion bc obviously its very important):

merlin/lancelot = merlance (obviously x283992838383. although a strong case can be made for merlot BUT but but but it will only ever come in second place to merlance SORRY but its undeniable fact. mercelot is at the last level of hell)

arthur/lancelot = arlance (obviously x283992838384. arcelot just sounds like arse-a-lot. so. although👀👀—no no. no. arlance. i actually really like arlance as a ship name idk why. it makes Sense to me u know. anyway. arlance is by far the superior lancelot shipname)

gwen/lancelot = gwencelot (but only bc i cant think of an alternative. i was EXTREMELY tempted to say ‘glance’ tho just fyi)

gwaine/lance = gwaincelot (see reason above. logically ik that they cant BOTH be ‘glance’ so thats another point Not in glance’s favour but. whatever. its still COOL)

elyan/lancelot = its just too CLOSE for me to not say elyancelot. what else could it even be. elylance? elyance? ive no clue .

percival/lancelot = perlance? percelot just sounds like purse-a-lot😫

leon/lancelot = leonce . obviously. i dont even need to explain this one

merlin/gwaine/lancelot = i mean. i underSTAND merwaincelot bc mer- and -celot arent attached so ig that ship name works (it sort of makes me think of “wince a lot” so im a bit eh but whatever. the only other thing i could think of was suggesting that we should also consider ‘merlaine’ bc it sounds pretty to me but technically that could just be an alternative name for merwaine so. idk. IT CAN STILL WORK THOUGH. if not we should consider merlaine as the new merwaine ship name bc i like it better personally bUT I DIGRESS) (heres how merlaine can still win—)

merlin/arthur/lancelot = anything i think of for them sounds stupid sorry BUT merthelot sounds a bit like mirth-a-lot like a lot of mirth which is a lil cute imo. in my top three of trios tho so who cares abt every ship name for them sucking tbh

gwen/arthur/lancelot = again, i must concede arwencelot bc everything else to me sounds bad (but maybe if you dont listen TOO closely arlanevere can sound sort of pretty. i just really like the name guinevere and think the last bit is very pretty and should be incorporated in as many things as possible however that means that -evere completely carries that ship name for me so. maybe not that one? still sounds a lil pretty. enough to not completelh ignore. the men continue to give nothing. this unfortunately brings to light the problem that -evere is too pretty for a lot of things and they dont exactly live up so i cant really use many ship names with it at the end but anYWAY AGAIN I DIGRESS)

merlin/gwen/lancelot = the three i can think of are: 1) merwencelot (obviously) 2) merlancevere and 3) gwencelin (which sounds like gwendolyn lol) um. i might have to go with option 1 (again, mer- and -celot arent attached so i dont have anything AGAINST it ig also merlancevere just makes me think of severe which. eh. idk. actually u know what after sitting with it for a minute its sort of grown on me. still id PROBABLY go with merwencelot if forced to on pain of err whatever threatening tactic that would work on me BUT. merlancevere is a CLOSE second now. if i wait a few more mins maybe it’ll even usurp merwencelot’s place! stay tuned for update. i think i just dont like -lot at the end of things bc the t makes itso like. idk. ANYWAY)

merlin/gwen/arthur/lancelot = i have no fucking clue. i guess merwenthurlot ??? i cant think of anything that sounds better (ehehehe imagine merwenthurance sksnsksnkssk makes me think of hinderance)

merlin/arthur/gwaine/lancelot = honestly ive given up at this point with four names. tbh mostly idc. chances are im too busy being confused over all the chaos to even sit down and consider/care abt the ot4 names anyway. its probably merwainthurlot or merwainethurance or sumn. id go with merwainthurance bc it reminds me of maintenance which is apt bc theyd 200% be EXTREMELY high maintenance<3

idk ifeel like im not Creative enough for ship names,, like the name gwart hadnt even occurred to me until an anon brought it up but . as of right now wirh my current knowledge here is where i stand on ship names (dont even get me started on any ship name not exclusive to lance)

[arthursknight]

Lancelot for the character bingo!

had to think about the dynamic one a bit but, while i adore arlance and gwencelot and mercelot and gwainecelot and elyancelot and percelot and--

what was i saying.

[lemissingmask]

[ID: Low saturation coloured sketch of Elyan and Lancelot, both dressed in dark red gambesons. Elyan is smiling towards the screen, while Lancelot is looking slightly down towards Elyan with a small smile. End ID]

---

Elyan: This is Sir Lancelot, second best swordsman in Camelot. He's very protective of his friends. Try to hurt them and he will destroy you.

Lancelot: ...thank you...?

---

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

"Something isn't right" and/or "you can lean on me" for Elyan and Lancelot?

Elyan tore through the misty forest away from the bandit encampment, Lancelot’s footsteps thudding heavily at his side. There was nobody following them yet; they had managed to take out both the guards without waking the others, but it was only a matter of time before they discovered their prisoners missing. Ideally they would be back in Camelot by the time that happened.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that it was a few seconds before he registered that the footsteps beside him had stopped. He stopped too, and turned around. "Lance?"

About ten feet away, Lancelot stood stock still in the grey light of dawn. “Something isn’t right.” He was clutching his stomach, breathing heavily, a distinct pallor to his tanned skin.

Elyan frowned, walking back to him. “Lancelot, what’s wrong?” For the noble idiot to actually be admitting this, it had to be really bad.

“I-“ Lancelot was cut off with great racking coughs that forced him to his knees. Elyan rushed forward and grasped his forearms, guiding him gently to sit on the ground. As the coughing fit abated, Lancelot looked up at him with pain-filled eyes, a rivulet of scarlet dripping from his lips.

Elyan’s heart plummeted. “You’re hurt.”

Lancelot shook his head blearily. “I’m f-“

“No, tell me what happened,” he demanded fiercely.

“The guard- I took out- hit me.” Lancelot pointed at his abdomen. “Here. Club.”

Pursing his lips, Elyan eased Lance back so he was laying on the ground, then pushed up his thin shirt, him having been stripped of his armour just as Elyan had, to expose his abdomen. His breath left him all at once in a sharp exhale. “Lancelot.”

There was a large, dark bruise just above Lancelot’s navel. It looked deceptively undramatic, but Elyan had a horrible feeling that it was worse than a mottled rainbow of blue and purple would’ve been.

“Damn it Lance, why didn’t you say?“

“Had- to get- away-“ Lancelot panted between pained breaths and Elyan relented.

“We probably shouldn’t move you, but-“

“It isn’t safe,” Lancelot finished. “I’ll be fine, just leave-“

“Finish that sentence and I might just do that,” Elyan threatened, then softened. “Come on, Camelot’s only a mile away.” The bandits had got them late yesterday evening; they weren’t even due back before the afternoon. If they waited that long for help they’d be found or worse, Lancelot would-

He slipped an arm under Lancelot’s shoulders and eased him painfully to his feet. He wrapped an arm round his waist but didn’t pull Lancelot’s over his shoulder, fearing the damage it might inflict.

“Come on.” He brushed a gentle kiss of encouragement against Lancelot’s temple. “You can lean on me. We’ll make it.”

[gremlinbehaviour]

post-shade Elyancelot prompt? Elyan forges Lancelot a sword to replace the one Morgana gave him

Lancelot burned the clothes Morgana gave him after he had been resurrected in the fireplace of Gaius’s quarters. The black clothing fell to ashes in the flames, and he felt lighter for it. Despite being perfectly clean, it had felt as tainted and stained as his soul, and even though he didn’t own anything else, he wanted to be rid of it. All of his old belongings had been redistributed to his friends or given to the poor after his death, which they thought he would have liked, so he borrowed clothing from Merlin and his other friends to wear in the meantime as he went about acquiring a wardrobe of his own again. One thing he couldn’t burn, though, at least not without more serious equipment, was the sword Morgana had given him. He recognized that it was a perfectly well-made blade and that there wasn’t actually anything cursed or broken about it, but it didn’t feel that way. Wanting it gone, he took it down to Gwen and Elyan’s forge.

“Can you destroy this for me?” he asked, presenting it to the blacksmith who was down there working today. Elyan took it and swung it around briefly to check its balance and tested the edge and point with his thumb, seemingly satisfied by what he found.

“Why? It’s a good sword, sharp and well-weighted. Where did you get it?”

“Morgana.”

Oh. Okay, yeah, I get it now.” He didn’t hesitate to toss it into the fire. “I’ll melt it down and use the steel for like. Door hinges, fire pokers, and jewelry for nobles I don’t like.”

“Thank you,” Lancelot said with a sigh of relief. He felt like he could finally breathe as he saw the sword begin to glow red in the fire’s heat. The last of Morgana’s influence, melting.

“Happy to help.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder before turning to pull the sword from the flames with a tool now that it was hot enough to mold. “I’ll see you later. At dinner tonight, I mean.” Arthur hadn’t planned a whole feast, since Lancelot had said he didn’t want that, but he had organized a small gathering to celebrate his return. It was not unlike the dinner they’d had the first night after the tournament when the resurrected knight came back, but this time it would be real.

It was everything he wanted. The smaller dining room was much less overwhelming than a large banquet hall, and Lancelot was happiest around the few people who knew him best. His friends caught him up on everything that had happened while he was gone, though the glances Merlin sent his way said that they didn’t know quite everything. Especially when they were telling him about Dragoon. The undercover warlock looked about ready to burst with laughter, and Lancelot couldn’t wait to ask him about it later when they were alone.

Not that he wanted to rush away from this. The room was warm, unlike the chilling cold he had felt when going through the veil and as a Shade, and the clear love from his friends warmed his heart just as surely. Elyan beside him, especially. The small knight reached out to pat his knee or arm whenever he felt out of place, and after the food was gone and they all retired for the night, he walked Lancelot home to his door.

“I have a gift,” he said, instead of just wishing him a good night and leaving as expected, though Lancelot couldn’t say he was disappointed. “I started working on it as soon as you returned, as a welcome home present. It seems even more appropriate now.”

The resurrected knight wondered where Elyan was keeping said gift, as his gambeson didn’t have any pockets, before the younger man pulled his sword from his scabbard where it hung on his belt. For an instant the question was driven from his mind as his breath stuttered in fear. Did Elyan think he was still a shade? Or perhaps he sought retribution for the wrong done against his sister.

But the knight had not fallen into a fighting stance as he drew the blade, and a second later he shifted it in his hand to offer it forward by hand the grip instead of thrust it forward by the point. As he took it, Lancelot realized that this, the sword, was the gift. And what a gift it was. Like Excalibur, runes were engraved down the center of the blade, although they were set onto brass instead of gold. He could tell it was not the same markings, but he could not read it. The weapon was well-weighted and the hilt conformed perfectly to his hand as he gave it a practice swing.

“Elyan, I don’t know what to say,” Lancelot whispered. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”

“It seems like you do know what to say,” Elyan teased him, absolutely beaming. “I’m glad you like it. And the inscription on the blade says ‘Welcome Home,’ by the way.”

Lancelot smiled. “Speaking of that, then, would you like to come in?” He had loved the quiet intimacy of the evening seated beside him, and he wasn’t quite ready for that to end.

“I’d love to,” Elyan said with a grin, and as he stepped through the door into Lancelot’s chambers, the knight set aside the sword to pull him into his arms instead. No matter how beautiful the blade, he would always prefer to hold his friends close rather than a weapon.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

There was a knock on the open door and Lancelot looked up, hand still buried in his hair. 'I thought you were out with the others.'

Elyan kicked off his shoes and wandered in, promptly closing the window. 'I got bored.'

It wasn't exactly a lie: he had whizzed around half of the town on his own beforehand anyway and spending much longer with Gwaine after being forced to spend one and a half thousand years with him and then house share would be a sure way to commit murder. But Elyan had also seen that Merlin was fretting about Lancelot -- and even Gwaine had been in his own way -- and had thought it would look less like Lancelot was being checked up on if Elyan were the one to return home.

'How's it going?' Elyan asked, peering across the table to scrutinise the watercolour.

Lancelot raked his hands through his hair -- there must have been some kind of enchantment in Avalon because it really was growing thick and fast -- and sighed. 'I don't know. There's something on the paper, but I don't know if I like it. And it feels different to the work they said they liked--'

Elyan walked out of the room and returned with a coffee cup. 'I brought you this. I thought it might help. You just need to try and not overthink it, or put too much pressure on yourself.'

Nodding, Lancelot gently accepted the drink. 'I thought we were banned from Costa.'

'We're not banned from every Costa in Bath. Not yet, at least.'

Lancelot had been about to take a sip. 'That was not a suggestion.' As Elyan grinned, he tilted back the drink and pulled it away soon after, eyes dancing. 'It's the gingerbread and cream latte!'

'Yeah, it is,' replied Elyan, trying to suppress his smile as he threw himself down on the sofa. 'Because it's now Christmas, not hot girl summer.'

'It's November.'

'Closer to Christmas than to hot girl summer.' Rummaging around in his pocket, Elyan pulled out something wrapped in a branded napkin. 'But I guess if it's too early to be Christmas, then you won't be wanting this...'

When he unwrapped a mini gingerbread man and lifted his head, Lancelot looked like he was about to cry. 'Elyan, if Gwaine ever does anything to upset you ever again I will help you steal his kneecaps.'

Elyan held the napkin out to him. 'Greatly appreciated.'

a ficlet set in the costa criminals universe to celebrate the return of the mini gingerbread men

[fishoutofcamelot]

I know I said my elyancelot fic would be out today, but my computer crashed and started smoking so everything I have is now GONE there were 3000 WORDS THAT HAVE NOW CEASED TO EXIST. Please understand my pain, it will be rewritten on my other laptop once it arrives and then promptly posted within a week.

Everyone pour one out for those unpublished 3k words, gone but not forgotten. The spirit of elyancelot will always live on in our hearts 😔

Best of luck with your computer! Maybe it crashed bc its homophobic

[talvenhenki]

H Q U V? :)

H: How would you describe your style?

It's very much all over the place. I try to explore emotions a lot, as I tend to simply not understand them (having alexithymia is fun) and you know. I have a lot to say and I am a disaster. What else is new?

Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?

I don't wanna say that they're discarded (I will finish the smalltown priest au, just watch me!) but there def are some that I haven't written on for a while. There's one Mercelot modern au where they're kinda beginning to date (Lance and Leon are roommates in this au & Leon always looks after and takes care of Lance because Lance's dad is a royal ass who made Lance very unsure of himself and also very sad). It was supposed to be just pure fluff w some romcom tropes because I just wanted to see happy Mercelot but it has been unwritten for so long omg. I still do wanna finish/rewrite it

U: A pairing you might like to write for, but haven’t tried yet.

Elyancelot! Also Kiradax because they're soft and I need my Trek sapphics thanks.

V: A secondary (or underrated) character you want to see more of in fic?

Star Trek: Miles O'Brien, Keiko O'Brien (just all the O'Briens, really), Rom, Nog (I'm beginning to like him so much), Jake Sisko, Benjamin Sisko, Laris, Zhaban, the Discovery bridge crew, especially Owo. Also, Grudge the Cat, and Spot II.

Merlin: All the knights, but especially Elyan because they spark joy!

Lotr/Silm/The Hobbit: Elrond, Erestor, Elladan & Elrohir, Glorfindel, Lindir. Just the whole Rivendell squad, really :D

[lit-in-thy-heart]

‘We could run,’ whispered Elyan.

Lancelot lifted his hand to cup Elyan’s cheek, leaving his fingerprints etched in blood along Elyan’s bone structure like blots on parchment. Elyan was about to ask why nobody had cleaned the blood from his partner’s hands before realising that Merlin and Gwaine had slipped away, Percival was standing guard over Lancelot at a respectful distance and Leon and Arthur were in a fraught discussion on the other side of the clearing. And Elyan had been preoccupied with trying to work out how to ensure Lancelot escaped the flames that had haunted his own nightmares as a child in Camelot.

‘I’m in no fit state to run, love. And we’ve both been running for long enough.’

‘You can’t leave me.’ Lancelot closed his eyes and Elyan’s grip on his body tightened. He knew there was the possibility that all he would soon have left of Lancelot would be the blood smeared across his cheek, but he wasn’t ready for it to be just yet. ‘Lance.’

‘You deserve a good life,’ Lancelot murmured, opening his eyes.

‘I have one. With you.’

‘You deserve to be free from fear, love.’ Lancelot was roaming Elyan’s face with his gaze, as if he was trying to commit it to memory like a gravestone. ‘You deserve that, at least.’

‘And you think sacrificing yourself for me is going to make my life free from fear?’ Elyan whispered sharply. ‘You think that I won’t be in a constant state of panic because I can’t see you and haven’t remembered that you’re not, that you’re not—’ He broke off, swallowing. ‘We could run,’ he said again. ‘Percival is easily persuaded, especially when it comes to you—’

‘Where would we go, Elyan? There’s no place for two disgraced knights of Camelot.’

‘Nemeth. You know Princess Mithian, we could go there.’

‘I wouldn’t want to drag her into this.’ Lancelot draped his arm around Elyan’s back. ‘Please, love, stop. It’ll be okay.’

Elyan closed his eyes. ‘Easy for you to say. You won’t be the one left behind. Please, love. Tell them the truth. It’s not your burden to bear.’

Lancelot’s fingertips were rubbing the bone behind Elyan’s ear. ‘You gave your heart to me, a little while back, and I wanted to give you something in return.’

‘Your life isn’t worth my heart, Lance.’

‘No, your heart is worth more. And it should be as unbroken as possible.’

[gremlinbehaviour]

“I don’t want to go to a hospital. I hate doctors!” + any pairing you want

This is from. Ages ago, but I finally wrote something for it. More neurodivergent knights featuring my own anxiety about getting an MRI in an hour

“Do I have to go?” Lancelot whined, but the tremor in his otherwise petulant voice belied that he was truly worried, not just complaining for the hell of it.

    “It won’t be so bad,” Elyan tried to reassure him. “You just need to get it over with.”

    “What if I tic in the middle and mess it all up?” the soon-to-be-patient grumbled, but he did get up from the couch and started putting on his shoes.

    “I’m sure they have ways of dealing with that. When I had to get my MRI, they put a thick foam pad thing under my head so I couldn’t really move even if I wanted to,” Elyan explained. “And you can remember that I was just as freaked out then as you are now. But it was fine. Your doctor said that this is just a precaution anyway, right? Nothing to worry about.”

    “I know. I just. I don’t want to go to the hospital and I hate doctors,” Lancelot said. He did, in fact, remember Elyan’s first seizure and all the aftermath of it with the trip to the ER and the half dozen other appointments that came afterwards and honestly the memory of it was not helpful right now. That hadn’t been a good time for either of them, as Elyan had barely let himself out of someone’s eyesight for months for fear of having another seizure while he was alone and the stress of that had eaten away at both of them. Lancelot, lately, was prone to the opposite, isolating himself whenever his tics were bad so that no one saw him shudder or jerk. He did desperately want to know what was going on in his body, but he had a feeling that the MRI wouldn’t illuminate that much, so mostly he was just worried about the procedure without much hope of it being helpful.

    “Lance,” Elyan sighed, holding out a hand. Lancelot took it reluctantly, even though he immediately felt better. “It’s going to be okay. Even if it’s not fun, it’ll only take an hour and then it will be over and I guarantee you that the peace of mind is worth it, okay?”

    Lancelot just nodded and let himself be led towards the bus stop, hoping that his partner was right and it wouldn’t be too bad.

[gremlinbehaviour]

Just saw a post that called elyan/lancelot a weird ship (which I don't want to link here or reply to because I don't think op had bad intentions and I don't want to start drama) but it reminded me that we've been sleeping on Elyancelot as a ship! It's not weird, just not common, which makes sense because they had few interactions (but more than lancelot/gwaine did, so that shouldn't be an excuse) and because people generally don't like to ship Elyan or explore his character (which is a problem for another post and something I'm not very qualified to talk about). But personally, I think elyancelot is wonderful.

Elyan is an amazing combination of extreme sass and the most heartfelt deepest compassion of anyone on the show (remember ghost boy?). He has so much potential backstory and history from his early life in Camelot and his travels, so a few well-placed headcanons can take a story so many interesting places with him and anyone, but especially Lancelot.

Lancelot is nobility and chaos and trauma all rolled into one very complex character who deserved more screentime to be explored (well, all the knights did, really)

There are so many different stories to be told with Elyancelot as a ship in them. Pre-series 3? Absolutely, they had so many opportunities to meet up on the road in different ways. Between season 3 and 4? Yes, show me them growing closer and realizing their bond is something other than friendship. During season 4? Sure, if you love angst and want to break my heart (looking at you, neednoggle). Reincarnated era? You know this fandom loves a good modern au.

Like y'all... we're sleeping on Elyancelot

[gremlinbehaviour]

“ i can't believe you kept this a secret for so long... how come nobody noticed? “

and because it's hiding injury and it's such a great ship: elyancelot? <3

On the third night of their return trip from Nemeth, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights made camp just out of sight of a small lake. Lancelot offered to go refill everyone’s water skins, insisting that he could manage it alone when he was offered help and company. Finding this more than a little suspicious, and more than that when he didn’t return quickly, Elyan followed him.

    Lancelot knelt beside the river, the pile of water skins ignored beside him. Leaning forward, he dipped a cloth into the water before bringing it back to his bare torso. A long cut sliced down the right side of his chest from under his arm to his side. A few ragged stitches dotted along the length of it, but the wound was far from closed.

    “What the fuck?” Elyan demanded, marching over. “When did you get that?” The trip had been incredibly conflict-free for them, without so much as a bandit attack on either the way there or back. So how in the world had Lancelot managed to be wounded?

    “There may have been an assassination attempt on Princess Mithian when she was showing me her falcons,” the injured knight admitted.

    “Lance… that was over a week ago. I can’t believe you kept this a secret for so long… how come nobody noticed?” What Elyan really meant was how come he hadn’t noticed. Sure they hadn't been sharing a bed because there wasn't much privacy, but he still should have known. He should have seen instantly that his lover was moving wrong, stiff and pained. Should have noticed that he wasn't eating, just picking at his food. That he flinched away from the others touching him and that his horse had nuzzled at his chest before he mounted up to ride, probably smelling the blood Elyan himself couldn’t.

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit." Given an easy target, Elyan's anger at himself shifted over instantly. "It's not fine. Did you get any proper care for that in Nemeth, or did you do those stitches yourself?" The way that Lancelot looked away from him told him everything he needed to know. "Shit, Lance, that explains why they're so loose and crooked I guess. How did you even reach it?"

"Not well," Lancelot murmured.

"Then why the fuck didn't you get someone to help you?"

"Mithian asked me to keep it quiet." He sounded so fucking despondent, or maybe that was just his reaction to being chastised, that Elyan's anger faded just a little. He almost believed that Lancelot would have asked for help had he not been ordered not to. Almost. "She didn't want to upset her father, or for Arthur to think Nemeth is vulnerable."

"Then why didn't you just come to me or Merlin? We wouldn't have told anyone. I'm sure Mithian appreciates your loyalty, but a foreign princess shouldn't be able to tell you not to get medical care."

“She didn’t say that,” Lancelot immediately defended her. If Elyan wasn’t so secure in his knowledge that Lance would never cheat on him, he might’ve been a little jealous of how fond he was of the princess. Although, to be fair, it was hard not to like Mithian, since she managed to be beautiful, smart, and kind.

    “Regardless, you still should have told somebody,” he replied. “Seven hells, Lancelot, you didn’t even need to say where you got the injury. If you’d just come to me right away, I wouldn’t have even minded if you didn’t tell me what happened.” He suspected that in reality he would have been unbearably curious and worried if his boyfriend had done that, but it was still better than him having been in pain with an untreated wound for a week. “I would be happy just knowing you trusted me enough to let me care for you.”

    Elyan watched Lancelot’s Adam's apple bob on his throat as he swallowed once, twice, as if trying to swallow down his pain and emotions again. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered in a voice hoarse with unshed tears. The other knight didn’t say that it was okay, because it wasn’t, but he was gentle as he took the wet cloth from his hand. There was blood caked around the wound in various states of dryness, a result of it having been reopened multiple times and bleeding each one. Careful to avoid the wound itself, he wiped this away until the white cloth was stained red. 

    “This needs proper stitches, or else it will never scar over properly,” Elyan said of the still-raw wound when it was finally revealed in all its ingloriousness. “Sit here and I’ll go get Merlin.”

    “Wait, what are you going to tell the others?” Lancelot demanded, grabbing his wrist before he could stand up to keep him from leaving.

    “I’ll think of something,” Elyan replied. “If I’m even half as good a liar as you seem to be, it’ll work out fine.”

    Lancelot’s face twisted in shame before he looked away, and despite his anger, Elyan couldn’t bear to cause him more pain when he was already in so much. As he extricated his wrist from his boyfriend’s grasp, he squeezed his hand reassuringly and he leaned forward to press a kiss to his creased brow before he left.

[lit-in-thy-heart]

‘It was me.’

Even in his weakened state, with the blood matted in the roots of his hair and dusting his forehead, with a scarlet hand still pressed to the bandage around his midriff, Lancelot’s voice was commanding. It had been his voice that Elyan had fallen in love with first, with the way it had reminded him so much of the summer breeze, but all thoughts of love were now overcome with a growing sense of dread.

Arthur’s voice was not commanding. It was disbelieving and verging on desperate. ‘What?’

‘It was me. I used magic to defeat the attackers.’ Lancelot pushed himself further up against the log, face convulsing in pain. ‘I’m dying anyway.’

Beside Lancelot, Merlin flinched violently.

‘You’re not dying,’ Elyan sharply said. ‘And it wasn’t him.’

Gwaine was looking at Lancelot with deep lines running across his forehead. ‘You’re a sorcerer?’ His eyes slid momentarily towards Merlin, who was keeping his gaze deliberately averted. ‘But—’

‘You’re a knight of Camelot,’ Leon broke in. ‘You can’t...’

‘Just because we’re knights of Camelot doesn’t mean we can easily strip away every part of who we are to sacrifice our souls for the crown, for the idea of being worth something,’ Lancelot lowly said. ‘I thought that for a long time. I lost myself to the dream...’ He looked towards Elyan with exhausted eyes. ‘But I can’t lose some parts of me.’

Elyan could feel Percival behind him, could feel his own heart thundering, and he tried to moisten his lips before speaking. ‘It wasn’t Lancelot. It was me.’

[lit-in-thy-heart]

Lancelot closed his eyes and turned away from the courtyard he knew would soon be his tomb. If he ran his fingers through his hair then perhaps he could imagine it was Elyan’s familiar palm pressing down over his growing curls. If he allowed his back to brush against the wall then perhaps he would be able to believe that Elyan was holding him there with his body. If opened his eyes then perhaps he would see Elyan leaning against the bars of his cell, mouth hard.

‘You shouldn’t have done that, Lance.’

Drawing close, Lancelot’s fingers curled around the bars. ‘How could I not?’

‘Because you were dying.’ Elyan’s body relented, reaching out to graze against Lancelot’s knuckles with his fingers. ‘You had other things to worry about.’

‘I would have died every day without you,’ whispered Lancelot. ‘The fire you ignite within in me is stronger than any pyre. Without it, I’m nothing.’

‘You’re not nothing, Lancelot. You know that.’ Elyan’s fingers had tightened around his hands. ‘You have to tell them the truth.’

‘And watch them drag you away instead? I think not.’

Elyan wrenched his hands away to run them over his head as he began to pace up and down. What he had bribed the guards with to give them ten minutes alone, Lancelot had no idea. When he rested his hands on his head, Elyan’s shirt rode up and revealed the scars that had come from his time as a wanderer, from his brief time with Lancelot before Cenred had captured him. Lancelot had traced each of them like letters of an alphabet he was learning to read, drawing meaning from the shapes and embedding them in his memory. Whenever he did so, Elyan had a habit of burying his face in Lancelot’s neck, as if he were afraid to meet Lancelot’s eye. As if he were afraid that Lancelot would see the residue of the pain in his irises.

‘I’m the brother of the future Queen of Camelot,’ he finally said. ‘There would be leniency.’

Even as he said it, he didn’t sound convinced.

‘But you have a life here, El.’

‘And you don���t?’ Elyan fired back.

‘Not in the same way. You have Gwen, Leon, the others...’

‘What about Merlin?’

Lancelot averted his gaze. Merlin had looked like he had been struggling to breathe when Lancelot had been arrested and hadn’t visited the knight yet. Lancelot had a strong suspicion that there would be some kind of midnight visit. ‘Merlin has his own life. He’s managed without me in it before, I’m sure he can do it again.’

Elyan was back on the other side of the door, forehead pressed against the bars. ‘Why did you say it was you?’ he breathed.

‘I didn’t want to see you in any more pain.’

‘Lance...I may not be the one they tie to the stake, but if they do then it will kill me as much as if I were.’

from my tentatively titled elyancelot wip i'll keep the pain in my locket

[lit-in-thy-heart]

Elyan, before meeting Lancelot, had always hated strong wind. As a child it had carried the cries of the executions -- even though in hindsight they had been few and far between -- to his home, then when he had wandered alone it had always been a bitter companion. But when he had met Lancelot, there had been a source of heat to press himself again and a different breeze curling against his neck.

It was rattling the windowpanes, now, and Elyan looked towards the empty bed. He had lost count of the number of bitter nights he and Lancelot had fallen asleep entwined in one another on top of the sheets, shielding each other from the ferocious howling outside. Lancelot, tired but not wanting to force Elyan to get into bed too, would usually curl up on his side, limbs drawn close to his body, and allow his breaths to even out. Elyan, usually absorbed in a book, would absent-mindedly reach out and bury his fingers in Lancelot’s hair, stroking it back from his forehead, and would gradually inch further towards him as the wind threatened to slink in through the subtle cracks in the wall. The repetitive movement would lull Elyan towards unconsciousness and he would abandon his book to turn the pages of Lancelot’s pulse with his fingers and then, together, they would drift off into sleep with their dreams scattered by the candlelight.

The wind was screaming tonight and the bed was empty.

[gremlinbehaviour]

The 11th one + elyancelot bc it feels extremely them? 🤣💜

“I’m not sure what happened,” Elyan argued. “I woke up and it was there. Someone must have gotten to me while I was sleeping. Maybe an animal or something.”

    Lancelot paused in bandaging his arm to give him a deadpan look. He’d come in to wake his boyfriend up when he was late for training, only to find him beaten halfway into a coma. After calling Merlin in to make sure he wasn’t bleeding internally, Elyan had been left to his care, along with some bandages and salve for his scrapes and bruises.

    “Really. That’s the excuse you’re going with?” he asked. “We’re in the middle of the castle, so I don’t think any wild animals would be attacking you here, and anyway I’m in the room next door. I would have heard if anyone broke in.”

    Elyan started to laugh, but quickly groaned instead as it made his ribs ache. After he’d caught his breath, he huffed, “I appreciate that you’re coming up with serious reasons why that’s ridiculous.”

    “I have enough experience with absurd excuses to be able to critique them,” Lancelot replied. “And, lucky for you, also with handling undisclosed injuries. So while I wrap your ribs, why don’t you tell me what really happened?”

    “It’s dumb,” Elyan mumbled.

    “I’m sure it is, but I want to know anyway,” Lancelot replied, kissing his shoulder before wrapping a bandage around it.

    “I got into a fight with one of the other knights.”

    “And he beat you this badly?”

    “Well, maybe it was a couple of them.”

    “Why did you fight with them?”

    “They were being classist assholes.”

    “Classholes, if you will,” Lancelot suggested. Finished with the bandages to apply pressure to strained muscles, he moved on to rubbing salves gently over his bruised skin. It was an oddly intimate gesture, despite the pain of it, and when Elyan turned his head to the side, he instinctively pressed a kiss to his cheek.

    “Exactly.”

    “Babe, as much as I hate the status games around here, I think you should take more advantage of the fact that your sister is the queen.”

    “Hm. Maybe. If it gets too bad, I’ll bring it up.”

    “When will you have enough self-worth to admit it’s already bad?” Lancelot asked, pulling him into a gentle hug from where he knelt on the bed behind him.

    “Probably whenever you do the same,” he replied, sighing and relaxing against his chest with a smile.