Tangible Schizophrenia


Wolfskin Epilogue: Hearth

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot, Gawain/Galahad/Tristan
Feedback: Whatís good, whatís bad, etc.
Disclaimer: These versions arenít mine.
Notes: AU with supernatural elements; not entirely historically accurate due to that, though Iíll try to put in as many real details as I can. Arthur was first sent to Sarmatia to help gather conscripted knights, then to Britain.
Summary: Bedtime in Camelot.


The boy impatiently bounced on the bed, brushing away his mother's attempts to tuck him into the sheets. "But what happened afterward? Did they live?"

"Yes, they lived. Five knights, one king and one queen." A fond smile on her face, she patted his crisp curls. Then she turned to glare at the indignant cough in the corner. "Fine. Four knights, one king, one queen and an annoying--"

"You could at least be nice about me to my own get," the man said as he sauntered up to the bed. "Takes two to bear a pup, after all."

Blinking, the boy looked his confusion from one adult to another. "Pup?"

"Yes, pup. Hopefully like me, since your mother's a bit scrawny when she's on four legs." The man ruffled his son's hair, then leaned past him to peck a kiss on the forehead of the other boy, who was politely silent but full to bursting with curiosity. "No fear about you--you already look more like Arthur than Arthur himself. Big-boned and always caught up in your thoughts, but nasty in a fight. I hear you beat Bors' number seven the other day."

An exasperated elbow thudded into the man's ribs, making him hastily withdraw. He winked at the boys as he slid out the door, then stopped in the hall and waited for the woman to finish settling the children. When she came out, he snagged her waist and spun her around the hallway until she was laughing too hard to remember she was supposed to be put out with him. "Lancelot, you're a hopeless loss and you're going to ruin the children. I honestly don't know why I put up with you."

"Because I make you moan like a--" He allowed himself to be silenced by her mouth, then pulled back to kiss her forehead. They slowed as the somber darkness of the corridor overtook them. "Because you had to. I notice you never tell them about how long before we sorted things out. And why Gawain has a few more scars than he should. I think Tristan and Galahad are still a little mad about that."

"I'm never going to forgive those northern fools for turning against all of us like that. They swore allegiance to Arthur, and then--" She buried her face in his shoulder, sighing. "I will tell them, when they're older. When they can understand that life never stops being difficult, but that that's no reason to give up on it entirely."

A third man strode out of the dark, tired eyes lighting up when he saw the two of them. "Possibly the hardest lesson to learn. I don't think I've quite understand all of it myself yet."

"Well, maybe we should remind you," Lancelot purred. Laughing softly so as not to wake the children, he and Guinevere backed Arthur into their own bedroom.


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