Pain, as sharp as a spear, pierced through my heart. Through the sad sighs of wind and waves, I heard the lament for the lost. A seabird which had been roused from sleep, swung high above us and let out a single cry. Longing for a word of consolation I said: “If he can be cured anywhere in the world, then certainly on Avallon.”
Bedwyr paused long, staring into space, while the waves played around his feet. As I stood beside him, my heart nearly broke. Finally, he reached to me, took the torch from me and threw it into the sea with a mighty swing. I watched as the flaming bow plunged into the sea, a collapsing star on the earth, and I heard the hiss as it hit the water – and faded away.
Just then the young lady who had come from the Lake stepped forward; she put her two hands on Lionel’s cheeks and said to him, ‘Come, good prince, I’ll make you look better.’
With that she placed on his head a very beautiful garland of fresh, sweet-smelling flowers and attached to his collar a clasp of gold and precious stones, and she did the same to his brother Bors. Then she said to Lionel, ‘Now you can drink, good prince, for now it is clear you deserve to.’
The boy, though, flushed with anger and answered, ‘My lady, I will drink,’ he said, ‘but someone is going to pay for it!’
‘The Old French Arthurian Vulgate and Post-Vulgate in Translation’, Lancelot Part 1 translated by Samuel N. Rosenberg
Or, in other words, moody and homicidal teenage Lionel and Bors wearing flower crowns get a makeover from a fairy a few paragraphs before murdering their host’s son
Two years later Bleddyns youngest son returned and found a willing friend in little Arthur. Bedwyr, a slender, graceful boy, as dark as Arthur was fair, bold shade to Arthur’s bright sun, took the future Pendragon under his wing.
The two became bosom friends who were inseparable: cast golden mead and dark wine in the same cup, they say. It was a pleasure to see them play.
Thus there came to be a lull in the fighting, and in the silence the Black Knight saw approaching him a warrior taller than any on the field. He was wearing armor that shone golden in the sunlight and was riding a red-gold charger that carried him with ease. There was such a majesty about him that the young knight knew he was in the presence of a king as he had dreamed a king might be, a ruler even more regal than King Arthur. Galehaut’s voice, too, deep and clear, expressed an absolute authority, and with it, solicitude: ‘Sir, do not be afraid’.
Lancelot and the Lord of the Distant Isles: or the Book of Galehaut retold (via shirleytheshields)
“I should have never left Arthur.” She regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. Gwen may have thought them a million times, but she’d never said them.
He stopped eating and turned to look at her for a long moment. “No.” Lance seemed to consider her for a moment and seeming to find her lacking, added, “You shouldn’t have.”
His words cut deeper than any knife. […] And she wondered for the first time if all of those misogynistic scholars were right -if she’d broken him. If the fall of Camelot really was her fault?
“The desperate housewives of Avalon” by Saranna DeWylde
I am not concerned at all about myself ,“ replied Arthur. “What I do now, I do for Britain. In this battle, I’m the Kingdom. No one can take my place or share my lot, because this fight is due to the king alone.”
He presented the matter succinctly. If all Britain should find peace, it had to be won by the person who held throughout Britain in hands. It was said: Arthur and none else. His would be the defeat or the fame. But if fame or loss, the fact befitted the rulers and had to be done by him alone.
Of all the men she spoke of, you are the only one she accorded any respect. Indeed, there was even a sense of affection and attachment. Perhaps the very fact that you are not attainable makes you that much more special to her, for I would swear the Lady loves you not as a brother, but as a consort – and seeks other men to replace you because you are inaccessible to her.
Persia Woolley “Guinevere: Queen of the Summer Stars”
Lancelot came walking down through the great hall. On his head he wore a crown of splendid red roses that stood out beautifully against his fine blond hair; and yet it was August, when it is not natural for roses to last long. But the story insists that for Lancelot, as long as he lived in the Lake, no morning ever came, in summer or winter, when he had to go without a garland of fresh red roses for his hair, no matter how early he arose; the only exceptions were Friday and the eve of the great feasts and all of Lent. On all other days, Lancelot had a new crown of roses every morning; yet he could never watch closely enough to make out who it was that brought it to him, even though many times he lay in wait to find out. But once the two boys had come to join him, there was no morning, however early he arose and received his garland, when he did not take it apart and make three out of it and in that way share it with them.
‘The Old French Arthurian Vulgate and Post-Vulgate in Translation’, Lancelot Part 1 translated by Samuel N. Rosenberg
Does anyone else remember that Baby Lance spent a lot of time living among fairies and wearing nature-defying flower crowns (unless he had to go without) and just generally being a medieval Little Lord Fauntleroy? Because I do.
Also making flower crowns for his wee cousins, though he didn’t know they were cousins yet
Thankfully, Lance’s aesthetic at this stage appears to have been a little less ‘sulky murder children in flower crowns’ than his cousins (as in last quote) but he certainly had his fair share of violent outbursts. Mind you, interpretations of Lance’s violence vary both between sources and between paragraphs, so I do also love this quote:
“No one could have found fault with any part of him, but people who saw him did agree that, if his chest had been a bit less fully developed, he would have been that much more attractive and appealing. Later on, the worthy Queen Guenevere, who had more to say on the subject than others, said that God had not given him a chest in any way too big or expansive, for it suited his great heart, which would have burst had it not been lodged in a large enough enclosure. ‘And if I were God,’ she said, ‘I would not have made Lancelot any smaller or any bigger.’”
Ok number 1) awwww, Lance’s big heart.
Number 2) Guinevere ‘who had more to say on the subject than others’- what was she just constantly nonchalantly dropping it into conversation. ‘Oh and Sir Lancelot you really must come and play me at chess sometime, oh and while we’re on the subject, may I complement you again on that excellent chess-t of yours, jolly good work.’ *waggles eyebrows meaningfully at said flushing knight*
Number 3) ‘I would not have made Lancelot any smaller or any bigger’. Gwen you little… !!! Mind you, I believe I’ve said before that Lance would argue that, whether jousting in the lists or in real life, it’s not the size that’s important, it’s how you use it.
Lastly though I believe this alone is enough evidence for the continued appearance of habitual (as in not just as a prize) flower crown-wearing Lancelot right into his adult years.
(After all, why else are there so many roses in this picture, if they’re not about to sit and make rose garlands together?)
What are you going to do, stab me?
Arthur to Mordred shortly before being stabbed. (via arthurianmisquotes)
Arthurian Legends 