[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

63| Fathers Forgotten - 𝐈

AN: Happy New Year! 🎉 This chapter in total is long (15k words) so I'll break it into maybe 4 parts? There are 70 total chapters planned and updates will come a lot quicker once I finish them all haha
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═ 𝘍𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 ═

Lancelot's attempt to help a friend brings them closer together. Ari confronts the power that she'd let slip through her fingers.

It had been merely a couple of days since the Ash arrived within the forest, though that was the least of the Fey's concerns.

Ari's messenger within the Paladins had managed to send a note which said that the Red Cloaks were descending south, in mass with King Uther's soldiers under an apparent truce. Lancelot had been there in the den when Ari'd unravelled the leaf of parchment to read that the revolt gathering traction in the human southern cities— which now had the full support and spearheading of the Fey Queen— had drawn Uther and the Paladins' attentions. It would take no less than twelve days for the armies to converge on the south.

That was one day ago, and Ari was now thrown into making the final preparations for war.

Lancelot had lingered after that den meeting, feeling his heart flutter with dread. When they were alone and Ari had turned to him, all he had seen was how wet her eyes were before her strength crumbled. He caught her, allowed her to cry within his arms for however long she had needed until she raised her head, replaced her invisible crown, and walked out with that letter in her hand into the clearing full of Fey and humans breaking their fasts.

Between his bouts of worry, he was in awe of her, and the Fey too for how they stood up, raised their fists, and readied themselves for one last fight. No more would they run and hide.

The morning prior had been so peaceful in comparison.

He'd followed on behind Ari and Gawain out of the queen's tent, rolling his eyes at the latter's taunting before actually considering the man's words.

Should we plan for a king, too?

Lancelot had faltered in a step. Yes, his mind said. And he'd caught himself believing that there could be a chance. He'd only ever given more thought to the reasons why the Fey would never accept him being with Ari, and not enough of the reasons as to why he could.

Then as he strode his last steps towards being the Ash's leader, those reasons had been all that he could think of. He was stuck in a mind of two halves. One adamant still that he would never be king, and the other that he could never leave Ari. Unable to find any compromise.

Those tumultuous thoughts were ended soon enough when he'd realised he'd followed Ari and Gawain into the crowded valley. Fey lined all up the grassy verges, and the Ash were gathered in the trough.