#I STARVE FOR LANCEWAIN!! I STARVE FOR GAWAIN AND LANCELOT BEING GALAHAD'S DADS!! so desperate im writing my own lmao

[sonicstorybook]

Knightly Favour

Chapter 1/5

Summary: As the High King's Nephew and a famous Knight of the Round Table of Camelot, very few things in Sir Gawain of Orkney's life are comfortable and private. It's hard to put an exact label on what he has with Sir Lancelot of the Lake, but he's happy. Happy with the man, happy to nurture and look after the boy he loves like a son, and happy to keep their relationship away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths. So it is most aggravating (and a little endearing) that Lancelot seems determined to shatter their fragile, discreet peace with the most public declaration of love and esteem possible- the tournament's grand prize offered on the end of the victor's lance. Lancelot is an incredibly private man, so what could he possibly be thinking?!

Contains: Established Lancewain (Lancelot the Hedgehog x Gawain the Echidna)! Dadcelot and Dadwain to Galahad!

Rating: G

Word count:  4,289

Note: A popular token of love in the Arthurian legends are favours, where a lady (or lord in this AU) gives their knight an item of clothing to show, basically, they're rooting for them. Usually a sleeve or handkerchief or something that could be tied to the armor for a public declaration, or something small that can be stored in the armor of the knight in question as a private symbol of esteem. C: Lancelot does what he wants like the contrarian he is, and subverts this tradition by publicly offering Gawain the tournament spoils as a public way of saying, "Yup, that's my guy!" I feel that I should stress that Gawain is just as into Lancelot, and his main concern is the privacy of their relationship, not the strength of it. Incredibly self-indulgent Lancewain but I need them to be happy. Gawain is Lancelot's boyfriend and Galahad is their son, the AU. Also Lancelot tries, he really does, but he is very good at knighting and very clueless at everything else.

Gawain is used to being the center of attention. As King Lot of Orkney’s firstborn son, the nephew of King Arthur, and the esteemed Knight of the Sun, his reputation has always preceded him. This time, however, the weight of a hundred eyes on him is unnerving. Like everyone is watching him with baited breath to see what he will do. (A distant part of his mind, one that is not blank with surprise, is pleased at the attention. Lancelot is a private man, so any of his public gestures carries even more weight.) Gawain looks down at Lancelot, heart hammering in his chest loudly enough everyone must hear it, too. Lancelot has his visor pulled over his eyes, obscuring his expression, but his head is tilted upwards. The jeweled bracelet hangs between them heavily, resting on the end of the lance. The lord of the tournament very clearly told Lancelot to give his prize to the loveliest lady in attendance. Lancelot is infuriatingly contrarian at the best of times, but why is he offering the bracelet to Gawain? Their relationship is intimate and private, so what is Lancelot thinking, declaring it like this in such a public venue?  ...Doesn’t that daft hedgehog understand that this gesture will mean the end of their quiet, easy romance? What should Gawain do?!  He can already hear murmurs around him, but it’s so difficult to listen to their words as Lancelot lifts his visor. His knight tilts his head to the side ever so slightly as he makes eye contact, arching a quizzical eyebrow. His red eyes slide from the tip of the lance to Gawain and back again, obviously impatient but with the slightest of challenging smirks.  Just as he’s about to grab it, just to spite Lancelot- Galahad startles Gawain out of his thoughts. He had forgotten the child had been sitting on his knee this entire time, until Galahad reaches up to take the bracelet. The child’s small fingers brush against the gold, but it slides further back on the lance and just out of reach.  “Ugh!” The little hedgehog lets out a frustrated huff, frowning at the bracelet with a fearsome little scowl that makes him look so much like his father. Gawain’s heart swells with soft affection as, once again, Galahad gives him a way out.  Galahad braces one hand against Gawain’s shoulder as he shakily rises to his knees, flexing his tiny fingers as he reaches up for the bracelet again. Gawain pushes his embarrassment to the back of his mind, focuses on the here and now, and lifts Galahad up another discreet inch. The boost gives the child the height he needs to snag his prize with a triumphant cry.  “Yes!” Galahad holds it up like a trophy, gold and jewels sparkling in the sunlight as brightly as the excitement in his eyes. He waves it frantically at Lancelot, as if afraid his father missed his triumph, “I got it!!”  Lancelot looks surprised but his expression softens into a fond smile. He gives his son an approving nod that has Galahad bouncing in excited delight. Lancelot’s eyes shift over to Gawain a moment later, looking disappointed- but this is for the best.  “G’wen!” The little hedgehog says loudly, tongue tripping over the syllables of his name in his excitement. Galahad shoves the bracelet in his face, and Gawain barely manages to avoid being blinded by wayward opal, “I got it!! G’wen, I got it!!”  “A prize fit for a king!” Gawain agrees, indulgently patting his charge on the back, “And you retrieved it by yourself! Most impressive!”  “Yeah!” Galahad agrees enthusiastically, putting the bracelet on his wrist with great pride. It’s undoubtedly going to fly off the moment the child moves his arms. “Da, look!”  Gawain glances back to where Lancelot was standing, but the knight is nowhere to be found. It’s not unusual for his sullen friend to disappear without a word, but Galahad is still of a tender enough age that he takes his father’s quirk too hard.  “Look, lad,” Gawain distracts Galahad before the child can notice, pointing at a different knight preparing himself at one end of the arena, “Can you see his shield? A field of azure with Two golden keys. Who bears that heraldry?”  His distraction works, and Galahad is immediately engrossed in his new task.  “Umm,” the child squints at the shield with such intense concentration that his tongue pokes out of his mouth, “A doorkeeper!”  “A good guess,” Gawain leans back against his chair, settling into a more comfortable position.  Galahad follows his lead, face pressed against his chest like a pillow, “Whose doors does he keep?”  ”Yours!”  “Mine?” Gawain’s eyebrows creep up, surprised at the answer, “My beautiful Orkneys? No, fortunately not! Guess again.”  Galahad doesn’t ever guess that the knight in question is Sir Kay the Seneschal, and his keys are the metaphorical keys to the kingdom- but the conversation shifts as Kay is thrown out of his saddle by a lance to the chest. They don’t see Lancelot for the rest of the day, but neither of them think much of it. Blending into the crowd is one of his quirks, too. By the time the royal trumpets blast to signal the end of the day’s events, and Galahad doses in the crook of his arm, Gawain has forgotten all about Lancelot and his bracelet. (At least, he can pretend that’s true.)