[1] WEEPING MONK // you're not what I was looking for

5| The Boy

═ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙤𝙮 ═

[TW// mild violence and referenced/implied past child abuse]

Lancelot is reminded of who he used to be and Ari comes face to face with the Monk in two unexpected encounters.

It was a surprisingly warm and sunny morning for late autumn. Some of the Fey had come out to the clearing and sat down on blankets and tree stumps with their friends and families, Ari included. She enjoyed eating with the Fey and did it with almost every meal, they were her only family.

Squirrel was tired of sitting at the tent all of time. He knew that Lancelot had no problem with him going off and running around with the Fey children, but he always went back to him. Every night he returned to the tent and slept by the Monk's side. He found it strangely comforting and he had an inkling that Lancelot felt the same way, though neither of them would ever show it. The boy pitied the man, knowing too what it was like to feel alone since he was now an orphan. He'd watched the Monk heal and grow stronger over the last few days and today, he decided it was his turn to boss the man around for once. 

Squirrel stood and reached his hands down to grab onto Lancelot's arm, "Come on you ugly lump," he jested encouragingly, "get up."

Lancelot glowered at the boy above him from where he sat on the log, annoyed, "What are you doing?"

"I told you, get up. We're going to go eat with the others," Squirrel tugging at the man's arm again.

"No," Lancelot responded, pulling his arm out of the boy's grasp. He turned and tried to ignore the child.

Squirrel rolled his eyes and huffed, "You can't just sit here by yourself all of the time, you have to go and meet people."

Lancelot didn't want to meet people, or more appropriately, they didn't want to meet him. He wanted to be by himself as he always had been, for them to ignore that he exists so that they wouldn't have to be so afraid of the monster in their camp. Throwing the boy a look of resignation and resentment, he envied how the child could so easily walk into somewhere new and go around with other Fey as if he had known them for his whole short life. The Monk had never actually known another Fey, and he didn't want to start now. He obeyed the Queen's command for him to remain in the camp and that was all, but that didn't mean that he would enjoy it.

"No," he repeated sternly, down casting his gaze to the ground but the boy bewilderingly slapped his arm, earning the sharp glare of his scowl in an instant. He had expected to almost scare the boy with his quick reaction, but he didn't and Squirrel didn't seem phased at all.

"Come on Lancelot," the boy moaned pleadingly again, slumping his shoulders in a way that was irritating in itself. 

Sighing in anticipation of what the boy was dragging him towards, Lancelot blinked his eyes slowly, "Fine," he gave in through gritted teeth, "but its your fault when they decide they do not want me there."