#lanceturia

[akampana]

I saw a screenshot of Dirty Dancing and instantly thought this. Never watched it but it’s been a minute since my last Lancelot, so here you go! :)

[akampana]

I think we’re all forgetting about Lancelot the OG wife stealer just swooping in and running away with Artoria and nobody can find them for like a month. But when they do Artoria is looking like the disheveled bratz doll.

Gotta go fast!

[akampana]

Sees the Domestic life, 1 prompt

LANCELOT DU FUCKING LAC

ARTURIA

GIVE THEM THE CHANCE.

AAAAAAAAA

Lancelot x Arturia

DOMESTIC LIFE 1: If they get married, who proposes?

Arturia does. It happens after half a decade of hesitant, shy dates, then an official relationship, a brief breakup, and then eventually getting to the point where she's over at his house so often they might as well be living together.

He's been married before, to two women. His first was when he was far too young, the next was a common friend of theirs who died too soon. Even though he knows Arturia loves him back, he knows she's a few years younger than him and she probably has better options, plus knowing his history...he doesn't really believe he's allowed to pop the question. And even though he knows Arturia loves both Galahad and Mash to bits, he doesn't know if she's ready to have a family right off the bat.

He's cooking dinner for all of them while she gets the kids and sets the table. Quietly, she wraps her arms around his waist from behind and presses her cheek into his back.

"Lance...would you perhaps consider...?"

Then she reveals a silver ring with amethyst inlays in-between her thumb and index finger. It takes Lancelot all his willpower to take the time to shut off the stove before turning to face her.

"Are you sure?" he asks, knowing he comes with...a lot.

It's one of the very few times he hears her so vulnerable. "Please?" she asked softly, unsure of what else to say.

He can hear how genuinely she wants this from her voice, and he can tell from her expression she's been thinking about this for a while.

Then he leans in to kiss her whispering "Yes, yes of course," in between touching his lips to hers.

Meanwhile Mash and Galahad are clapping in the background hahaha!

Thank you for the ask! :>

Ask meme

[akampana]

Hello, i was rewatching Berserkerlot scene from Eizbern consultation room (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ)

And...well, i got really emotional despite the satirical context.

I do not know the specific numbers, but could we have some SaberLot marriage hc?

OH MY GOD i love that episode. Damn I always quote that cause I'm really really sad that they never follow up on the fact that LANCELOT LOVED HIS KING MORE i mean that's HUGE why did they never pick that up?!?!?!? Not even a single freaking reference when the fact he loved her may have been a contribution to his madness ugh *slams fist on desk*

Even if they made him a dad in fgo and stuff they could have totally squeezed that in somewhere???

Erm. Okay, rant over.

Domestic Life 2 What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

After the proposal, they get right to work preparing for the wedding. Their trusted friends from the Table all pitch in to help.

Arturia brought little Galahad along while she looked for a dress and ended up settling for a flowy a-line dress with a deep v going down the back, which Galahad insisted she buy. The lace is floral, so she picked out a flower crown with lilacs to hold up a short veil.

Mash went with her dad to get his tux, and with the guidance of Lance's rather artsy foster mom, they picked out a lovely powder light purple for his suit and a bowtie that matched Arturia's flower crown (which Vivian had seen). His mom was actually surprised Lance was still willing to marry, considering his past, but she'd seen how he acted with Arturia and how his children loved her as well.

Plus, when she saw Lancelot in the suit, it felt just right.

They chose a small lakeside place for the location, and set up the reception outside. There was a chapel by the water that was specifically there for weddings.

Lancelot's two children did great, marching down the aisle proudly as flower-girl and ringbearer respectively. They were such sweethearts throughout the whole thing, even if Mash dozed through the priest's lengthy speech.

Lance cried when Arturia walked down the aisle, escorted by her brother, because he couldn't believe he still had this chance at a married life, and that she was the one to give it to him. But despite having to bite back a hiccup, he delivered his vows so clearly, it was like a declaration to the heavens.

He was smiling when they kissed, locking his arms around her so tightly like he didn't want to let go.

Vivian would stay with the kids in another cabin that night, to give the newlyweds some privacy. During the reception, however, right before the two were to be brought to bed, Arturia knelt down in her gown to show the two her own gift to them.

It was a gift Mash was a little too young to understand, but one that Galahad was brought to tears over: Legal adoption papers.

"I would be honored to be your mother, if you let me," she told him, but before she could even finish, the boy was pressing himself to her chest, hugging her as tight as he could. He whispered a quiet thank you, looked up to nod at his dad, then finally let go. Lancelot could not be more proud.

oh and here's a little more for you, anon cause lancetoria is top tier :)

Thank you for the ask! xD

[akampana]

Lancelot x Arturia? Always a good time!

I know you sent this right before I posted the Hades and Persephone AU, but I kept it in the inbox since I thought it deserved a sketch. Have this, it’s always nice to encounter Lanceturia fans!

If I told you I loved you then, would you have loved me in return?

[akampana]

12. For Lancelot and Artoria?

12. “You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you.”

Lancelot X Arturia

When I made this, initially it was only supposed to be up to the cut. So you can read up to there first, then decide if you need another helping of fresh angst. :)

_______

The stables of Camelot used to be a comfort. He was here frequently, fetching his King’s horse from the stableboy right before hunts, sometimes returning Llamrei when Arthur had to be pulled away right after going riding. The horses were familiar with him, so they did not stir, not even when Lancelot came in drenched in red.

The exiled knight stifled his sobs as he spat iron, rubbing the blood—Gareth’s? Gaheris’s? he didn’t know—on his hands all over his frock. It was a futile effort. No matter what he did, his palms would remain stained by the blood of Gawain’s brothers. First Agravain’s, and now theirs, who knew who it would be next?!

He’d been toeing the line between madness and sanity for hours now, knowing his name was tarnished beyond belief. Every second that passed saw him slipping, sliding, till that one moment where he finally fell over the edge. If not for the knowledge that Guin was waiting just outside the castle gates for his return, he’d have been kicking and screaming under the weight of his pain.

Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. He chanted in his head, finding Gareth’s white horse. It wouldn’t be missed. It hadn’t its master anymore. Slowly, he swung the gate open.

As if sensing his sins, the horse whinnied and bucked, thrashing against the reins. Lancelot braced its muzzle, begging for its silence to no avail. Tears fell from his eyes as he contemplated putting the animal down before it could stress the other stallions, but suddenly, the beast stilled, calmed by a smaller hand on its nose.

In an instant, Arondight was slashing through the stranger’s black and white hood. There couldn’t be any more witnesses. Not even the stableboy—god, deliver the innocent soul—could leave here alive.

Perhaps it was his anguish, or maybe his guilt, but his strike missed, only just managing to catch the string of the small person’s cloak. With great haste, Lancelot brought up his sword again as the hood fell from the boy’s face.

Onyx clashed with evergreen.

Then, Lancelot was sobbing on his knees, clinging to King Arthur—Arturia’s ankles and begging for death. His sins were plentiful. He’d done enough. He deserved not the blade he wielded, nor the life he still had. The fire and stake that were prepared for tomorrow should have been for him, not Guinevere, for it was he that ought to be thrown into hell.

“Lance,” Arturia called, sinking down to the unworthy soil. Carefully, she lifted his head so his tearful eyes met her forlorn ones. She leaned her forehead onto his, for touch was the only comfort she knew, and returned Arondight to his hands.

“You must take this with you. Your sword will not find another master here. Guin—” she flinched at the sound of her wife’s name, her eyes beginning to sting. “Guin needs your protection.”

“My liege, I implore you, end my life—”

“I refuse,” Arturia cut him off, suddenly standing and walking to the end of the stables. It was far too dark for him to see her tears, the way she bit the inside of her cheek. Deep down, Arturia knew this decision was costly. She smelt blood on him. It was not difficult to guess whose it was. If Guinevere was freed already, then she knew to prepare two graves when the sun came up. Her dearest nephew had just lost two more of his kin.

While Lancelot flung whispered questions her way, she saddled her horse and put on its reins, leading it back to her knight. Ignoring his words, she pressed the leather into his hands, bracing herself for goodbye.

“The archers at the gate will not dare shoot Dun Stallion. He is quick as the wind and fond of...fond of her.”

Ignoring his protests, she trudged past him to the exit, pulling her torn hood over her head once more. Lancelot made chase, but she’d already made the decision to let him go. At this point, could he even refuse this, when she extended her generosity even after all his sins?

He couldn’t.

Arturia looked back once, her hood concealing the last remorseful look she’d saved just for her First Knight. As he mounted her prized horse, she whispered low enough that the breeze could carry it away.

“You have to come back to me. Because...I cannot do this without you.”

Lancelot turned for a final glance, knowing not that this would be the last time he saw the person he loved the most alive and well.

“My king, I beg of you. Please. Please, Arthur.”

...

“No...No, no, no!” Lancelot pleaded, scooping up his beloved king’s broken body into his arms. Five steps away, Bedivere bit his lip, a fourth wave of tears falling from his tired eyes. The banished knight shook her once, twice, but the peaceful expression on her face didn’t change. Lancelot slipped his hand into her hair, supporting the head that lolled back, screaming her name in the hopes that she’d respond.

Salt fell from his dark lashes onto her cold cheek as Lancelot hugged her to his chest, squeezing hard enough there was no chance she wouldn’t complain. She had to. She had to say he was smothering her or...or that he didn’t deserve to touch her or that this wasn’t appropriate conduct for a knight. She had to.

“No,” he cried, feeling her blood seep through the gaps in his armor. “I came back, my liege. I returned for you, I swear it.” Curse Gawain. If he hadn’t just...if Gawain had just let him pass—If he could have held out on delivering vengeance just long enough for Lancelot to join the war...But how could he blame his friend, when he came running back in the name of Britain with Gareth’s bloodstains still fresh on his hands?

Lancelot wailed at her silence, clutching that who mattered most to him in desperation. Give her back, he prayed, hopelessly appealing to every deity he knew, even the most mischievous of fae. Someone, anyone had to respond. Was there no god that took pity on a king who sold her life in service? Was there no one at all?

The disgraced swordsman shoved Bedivere’s hand off his shoulder, hugging Arturia’s dead—no, not dead she couldn’t be— body closer. He ignored his former comrade’s words. She hadn’t gone. She was just sleeping.

“I did what you said. I returned for you, I…” he hiccupped, feeling no breath from her soft lips. His fist thudded on the bark of the tree she leaned against, the pain ripping through his knuckles paling in comparison to that which plagued his heart. Suddenly, he grabbed onto her chestplate, ripping off the armor like it was paper, and pressed his head to her heart. Surely it was still beating. Surely—

Lancelot?

The disgraced knight launched himself off the ground at the familiar voice, turning to see his king smiling down at him from behind a nearby tree.

“Arturia?” he answered, relief tainting his strained vocal chords. She beckoned him toward her, with welcoming arms, not a single speck of blood in sight.

Did I worry you, my love?

Lancelot walked toward her, reaching for his most precious person. Each step felt lighter than the last. He could vaguely hear Bedivere calling to him, but he ignored the noise. Arturia was here. Nothing else mattered more.

“No, my liege,” came his fragile answer as he kissed her cold, featherlight fingers. “I believed you would wait. I came in haste but Gawain—”

Visions of bloodshed overtook his mind like black paint thrown onto a white canvas. Suddenly, the sunny forest turned to one of flesh and bone, of bodies of friend and foe alike. Everywhere he looked were the friends he wronged. Gawain, his siblings, all those he had to cut down just to protect the king’s wife, then Guin—

There is no need to speak of him, love, for you are here at last.

Arturia’s voice pulled him back into paradise. He couldn’t even feel his wounds. When did she start wearing her hair down like that? It was lovely.

Come, Lance.

“Yes, my king,” he replied, content.

Lancelot followed her into the forest, a wide smile upon his once troubled face.

Bedivere clutched his king’s dead body to his chest, watching in horror as Lancelot disappeared into the trees.