#satbkified

All chatter ends and the courtyard is deathly quiet as everyone collectively holds their breath, certain they must have misheard Shadow just now… but the black hedgehog doubles down.

“You heard me,” Shadow repeats, turning to face Gawain with a challenging arch of his brow, “Lancelot can keep his Queen- I’ll take the King.”

“What!?“ Half a dozen voices cry out at once. Arthur barely manages to contain his own surprise, whipping his head to look at Shadow so quickly he almost flings the circlet off his head. 

Shadow does not flinch under the heavy weight of the stares, cool and determined with a haughty hand on his hip.

“Shadow,” Arthur wishes he had a moment with Shadow alone to explain what the black hedgehog was getting himself into, tenting his hands in front of his face thoughtfully, “Once again, I am asking you to reconsider this request. That is no light commitment or task. Are you sure this is what you truly want?”

“I’m going to prove that I am superior to this Lancelot in every possible way,” Although Shadow says Lancelot’s name, the challenging glare he levels in Arthur’s direction indicates that Camelot’s king is included as well, “By the end of it, all of you will be comparing Lancelot to me.”

“You are completely mad if you think the king will accept such outlandish demands!” Gawain is so worked up he throws his hand out, hitting the unfortunate Sir Yvain in the chest with his barbed knuckles. The yellow squirrel is knocked off his feet and into Sir Gareth behind him, who barely manages to keep them both upright, “Who are you?! What are your designs on our king?! Are you a spy or assassin?!”

“I am Shadow the Hedgehog, the world’s ultimate life form,” Shadow is arrogantly self-assured as he literally turns his nose up at Gawain, “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t care about you or this kingdom. And if I wanted your King dead, there’s nothing you could do to stop me!”

“You churl-!”

It’s very clear that Shadow and Gawain are about to start slinging hotheaded boasts, vicious insults, and blows again. But before Arthur can try to restore order, aid comes from an unexpected source.

“Hah! You are a saucy one!” Sir Lamorak’s squawk of laughter shatters the tension like ice, pushing past Gawain to stand directly in front of Shadow. 

“Brother!” A small purple cat darts out from the crowd, grabbing onto the hawk’s hand and giving him a stern shake, “Do not be foolish!”

“I know what I’m doing, squire,” Lamorak hisses at her, low enough only those nearby can hear him, shaking himself free and pushing the child behind him, “Watch and learn, Percy!”

‘Percy’ gives a loud, annoyed groan as she stomps her foot irritably, sulkily crossing her arms and watching her brother with an incredibly unimpressed expression. Who was this girl, again? Lamorak had asked if he could bring his sister in as his squire, but that had been only a few days ago and she wouldn’t have been able to make the journey so quickly, could she? She also seemed a little too young to be a squire… 

Lamorak flips his visor up with one hand as he looks down on Shadow with a condescending grin, “Do you have any idea what you are asking for? Do you really think an untried knave without any weapon or armor of his own has a chance?”

Shadow is coolly defiant, eyes boring into Lamorak ferociously, “I don’t need anything but my bare hands to beat you.“

Lamorak’s grin falls immediately, and his hand reaches to the scabbards where his twin swords are sheathed on his back-

“Enough!” Arthur steps in before Shadow manages to make more enemies, putting himself between his combative guest and his strongest knights, “Shadow is new to the realm and not familiar with its customs, and yet you treat him with great hostility! Where is your courtesy? Your patience? This is a most inhospitable way to treat my personal guest!”

Arthur hates having to use his authority like this, he really does, but Shadow is going to wind up as unpopular as Kay at this rate. 

The stunned silence lasts only a moment. 

“Your guest!” Gawain sputters indignantly, gesturing at Shadow like he doesn’t know what else to say, “Your guest!!”

“My lord,” Gareth puts his hand on Gawain’s shoulder, choosing his words carefully, “It is most unusual to have someone enter the kingdom with the visage of one of the round table’s most illustrious and well-regarded knights-”

Kay blows a dismissive raspberry, smiling when the armadillo gives him an annoyed side eye. Gawain leans over his brother’s shoulder to give the green hedgehog a full on glare.

“And it would be imprudent to rush into something like this without considering all potential factors and viewpoints,” Gareth finishes primly, bowing his head respectfully as he meets Shadow’s eyes, “While still giving Sir Shadow the same opportunities we would extend to every other child of Camelot.”

“You cannot be serious!” Gawain turns to his brother incredulously, “He disguised himself as Lancelot!”

“I have no need to disguise myself as anyone!” Shadow’s eyes narrow as he takes a step toward Gawain.

“Enough, enough!” Arthur massages his forehead as he glances up at the sky, knowing that this argument will cost him the rest of the morning. He will be struggling to meet all his daily obligations at this rate, and will likely be working late into the night... “I will hear your arguments in the great hall at the round table- after we break our fast.”

Before anyone can say anything else, Arthur turns to his guest, “Come, Shadow the Hedgehog, bringer of chaos! Before you end up creating blood feuds with the entire round table!”

Shadow doesn’t look the least bit chastised, incredulous and amused as he gives a flippant shrug, “Fine by me.”

“With these jests, it sounds like you’re better suited to the role of court jester!” Lamorak laughs boisterously, arms crossed over his chest as he grins mockingly. His squire stands behind him, less than enthused at her knight’s actions, but doesn’t say anything. She simply grips onto his tail feathers and digs her feet into the ground below, trying to physically keep him out of the range of Shadow’s fists. 

“Have you any more?” Lamorak jeers, obviously trying to get back at Shadow for that earlier insult. (Even though the brash hawk brought it on himself. Again.)

The air around Shadow turns positively murderous, and he flexes the fingers of his right hand as he brings it up mid-chest, “How about a magic trick?

Sparks crackle around his fingertips as he looks at Lamorak over his shoulder, eyes narrowing like he’s honing in on a target.

“I can make you disappear-“ Shadow starts to say, bringing his hand down in a vicious arc-

That Arthur jumps in to stop with his hands. The strange energy spreads through Shadow’s fingers and into his own, leaving behind a tingling sensation that seems to seep into his skin and to his very bones. Arthur lets go quickly, but it travels up the length of his arm and into his shoulder before radiating through his entire body.

“My Lord!” Half a dozen voices cry out at the same time in dismay.

“It’s nothing!” Arthur doesn’t have any time to dwell on any of this, even as his body seems to buzz with the energy. He wants to shake his hand out, but he knows that will just worry his knights, “I said this will wait until after breakfast! Be still, all of you!” 

He grabs Shadow’s hand tightly as he ushers his taciturn companion forward, as if afraid the black hedgehog is going to run off and punch someone else in the face. (Which seems very likely at this point.)

 “Come along!” Arthur’s hand buzzes where it touches Shadow, even through the fabric of his glove. He half expects the dark hedgehog to push him away, and is surprised when Shadow’s hand squeezes him. But painfully so, like this is a challenge he can win while making sure Arthur doesn’t let go. The king glances back as Shadow, curious to see why the prickly hedgehog would touch him without a clear purpose- when it becomes clear this is a calculated power play.

Shadow is staring Gawain down, using this simple gesture to establish himself in the king’s entourage, annoy the echidna and the other knights who regard him with suspicion, and show his clear disregard for hierarchy of the court. For some reason, Arthur is disappointed… but he pushes that feeling aside immediately. Shadow would be a fool if he did not use the king’s political and social position to his advantage.

Arthur pulls Shadow towards the now doorless archway, whispering as he discreetly elbows the black hedgehog, “What are you doing? I don’t know how it works in your world, but you’ll accomplish more with friends in Camelot’s walls rather than enemies!”

“I don’t need friends,” Shadow gives Arthur a flat look, answering loudly as he glowers back at Lamorak, “And if you want to keep yours in one piece, they shouldn’t start what they can’t finish. I don’t like leaving loose ends.”

Arthur rolls his eyes in exasperation as he hurries through the corridor, ear swiveling backwards to pick up on the disgruntled chatter that is naturally amplified by the stone hallways. Shadow’s combative attitude and abrasive demeanor are certainly not doing much to endear him to anyone.

“You don’t seem to like casual conversation or friendly advice either,” Arthur quips back, shaking his head, “And certainly not comfortable beds. What of mead and bread? Do you like that?”

“You're starting to irritate me, hedgehog-” Shadow answers back automatically, annoyed, before blinking rapidly. He gives Arthur that look again, like he’s seeing him in a completely different light, “You are going to drink mead for breakfast?”

Arthur finds Shadow’s baffled confusion amusing, quietly chuckling to himself, “Would my new champion prefer wine instead?”

“Sure, why not,” Shadow lets Arthur open the door to the chamber himself, purposefully ignoring Gawain’s outrage and rubbing it in by refusing to let go of the king’s hand the entire time, making Arthur do it one handed. Arthur can’t remember the last time he’s opened a door for himself, let alone another person. It’s strangely thrilling, “Where does the echidna sit?”

“I sit in the red velvet siege,” Arthur nods at the plush seat with the crown carved into the wood above it, “And ‘Wain sits to my left-”

“Good,” Shadow doesn’t wait for Arthur to finish explaining or sit down, plopping himself in the seat to Arthur’s right like it belongs to him. It belongs to Sir Kay, who seems less than amused- but, in a rare move of self preservation, also doesn’t seem very keen to attract Shadow’s ire on himself directly. Arthur shrugs to his brother apologetically, making motions to an attendant by the door to bring another chair.

In fact, Shadow goes out of his way to make himself look as comfortable as possible, throwing his crossed legs over one arm rest and propping his elbow on the other, resting his chin on his fist. Incredibly bold… Arthur sits down quickly himself, hiding a smile behind a sip of his cup.

“MY KING!” Gawain yanks his chair out from the table so violently the wood cracks under his grip, splinters falling to the floor as he sits in it heavily and unhappily, “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!!!”

Shadow stares at Gawain with a bored expression as he filches a piece of cheese from Arthur’s plate, popping it into his mouth as the echidna slams his hands back down on the table. 

Well, this is certainly turning out to be a very different and complicated day! When Arthur first rose this morning, he didn’t think he’d end up having breakfast with Shadow the Hedgehog sitting on his right hand side after causing a feud with almost half the round table. Or to have Gawain, one of his most powerful and influential knights, squabbling with the black hedgehog like a petulant child.

One of the many large and small problems he needs to solve... Arthur nibbles on a roll absentmindedly as he listens to Gareth’s argument from the other side of the table, pretending he doesn’t notice Shadow flick a piece of apple at the side of Gawain’s head.

He needs to nip the budding tension between Lamorak and Shadow before it leads to bloodshed… Lamorak is very pointedly glaring daggers at the hedgehog until his sister kicks him in the shin when he doesn’t pass her the jam quickly enough, and that quickly devolves to the hawk arguing with a literal child. 

Arthur needs to make Shadow’s self-appointed position as his champion palatable to the majority of his knights and advisors, many of whom are regarding Shadow with guarded suspicion over the rim of their mugs. 

He needs to find and check on Lancelot, whose absence in the siege at Gawain’s right is painfully obvious. And Arthur needs to soothe Kay’s wounded pride before his brother does something reckless and foolish that causes them all unnecessary grief. (Especially Kay himself.)

It was exactly as Sir Ector had warned- the secret wish of excitement in his heart had been answered in the most unexpected way. But Arthur has no regrets. 

Sonic has never been fond of paperwork or research. He’s very much a hedgehog of action, tearing through obstacles at mach speed and figuring everything out as he goes along. And when he literally and figuratively comes up against a challenge he can’t power through, he calls up Tails. His little buddy loves research, is good at thinking through problems, and able to adapt and tinker his solutions to any and every situation. It’s what makes them such a good team. Unfortunately, Tails wasn’t invited to this little trip to Camelot. Sonic’s been handling everything pretty well so far, but figuring out the right magic and locations for his return trip is turning out to be a little tricky. And, as he looks at the piles of scrolls, papers, and books on the round table, Sonic desperately wishes once again that Tails were here to help him. (Smithy is a skilled craftsman and smart in his own right, but apparently being a blacksmith doesn’t require reading! How is it possible there’s a guy that looks so much like Tails but is illiterate?! If he’s going to be here for much longer, then Sonic’s gonna put teaching Smithy to read on his to-do list.) At least he’s not forced to wade through all these papers alone. Sonic glances over to his left where Sir Gawain is quietly reading. It’s weird. Gawain isn’t Knuckles, but echidnas aren’t exactly common, so it’s incredibly eerie to see someone with that knucklehead’s same face and explosive temper just sit and think and research- “It is time for a break!” Gawain’s booming voice shatters the quiet of the room and breaks Sonic out of his idle thoughts. “Huh?” He blinks, startled, as the echidna snaps the book shut. Gawain doesn’t push the chair back so much as he pushes the entire table forward, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. He looks at Sonic expectantly as he exercises his shoulder, “Come.”

“Okay,” Sonic doesn’t know what Gawain is planning, but      anything    beats pouring over these boring old papers, “Where are we going?”

“On a quest!” As soon as he’s in Gawain’s radius, the echidna grabs Sonic to push him ahead. Gawain keeps one hand firmly on the hedgehog’s back, obviously very comfortable around pointy quills.

“Quest?” Sonic shrugs as he lets Gawain lead him through the corridor, not used to being the one encouraged to go faster. He has to glance backwards to make eye contact with the echidna, “Quest for what?” “Lancelot!” Gawain tells him cheerfully, “That daft man has a terrible habit of getting into the worst kind of trouble when left to his own devices. Let us make sure he is not in need of succor.” “Heh,” Sonic laughs at hearing Lancelot described like that. The dour hedgehog would undoubtedly disagree with Gawain’s assessment, and would very much resent anyone thinking he needed to be rescued. But much like Shadow, Lancelot seems to be a magnet for trouble, too.

“Sounds like you two get along well,” Sonic remarks absently as they pass through a partially re-constructed corridor.

“Indeed!” Gawain answers proudly without any bit of hesitation, thumping his fist on his chest, “Sir Lancelot is my dearest friend and closest companion!”

“…Huh, that’s cool,” Sonic says after a moment, a little surprised by how quickly and emphatically Gawain answered that question as he pulls a heavy wooden door open.

“Does that surprise you?” Gawain asks mildly, innocent enough but with an undertone of emotion Sonic can’t quite place. Definitely not positive though, “Have you heard differently?”

“Nothing, really, it’s just-“ Sonic makes a seesaw motion as they pass a grand collection of woven tapestries that seem to have survived the wreckage. Dusty and mostly still on the floor, but Sonic’s eyes linger on a tapestry of an old man with a disturbingly familiar looking mustache, “Merlina made it seem like you two weren’t super close. More rivalry than friendly to your whole friendly rivalry.”

“Bah, poppycock!” Gawain scoffs, obviously relieved as he shakes his head dismissively, “That’s simply because her grandfather filled her head with all those nonsense prophecies! Those silly tales of how our bitter feud would result in the end of the dream of Camelot!”

“Ah,” Sonic answers ambivalently, surprised at the blasé dismissal. He didn’t believe in things like prophecy and fate, but it seemed someone like Gawain, who seemed incredibly committed to intangible things like chivalry and duty, would care more. Especially if they were supposed to destroy a whole entire kingdom over a spat, “So you heard everything Merlina said when she was under the influence of the scabbard?”

“Sir Sonic, that was not new information for either myself or Lancelot!” Gawain seems genuinely amused by his attempt at gentleness, laughter booming in the stone hall. That it was broken didn’t seem to impact the acoustics too much.

“For as long as we have known them, the girl and her grandfather have never let us forget!!” The echidna sighs heavily, mouth twisting into a grimace like he just sucked on a lemon, “That mad codger ranted about destiny all the time, and what role everyone would play in the downfall of Camelot. Whether you wanted to listen to him or not!”

Gawain obviously finds this topic frustrating, ripping the stairwell door off of its hinges as his voice rises in his growing agitation, “The moment he saw me or Lancelot, he would immediately remind us of our destined ‘rift.’’”

The knight doesn’t even try to fix the door, just leaves it off to the side as he ushers Sonic through the doorway, “Merlin told ranted about my fate all the time! Long before I even met Lancelot!”

Gawain massages his forehead just under his visor, “He was driving me mad! I didn’t know a damn thing about who Lancelot was supposed to be, but when I finally found him, I was going to challenge him to a duel to the death!”

“That sounds reasonable,” Sonic answers dryly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Gawain obviously had a flair for the dramatics, given how he reacted to his unexpected loss to Sonic, but why did this guy go straight for the kill-or-be-killed option? Definitely some less drastic steps he could try first.

The echidna is either oblivious to Sonic’s sarcasm or choosing to ignore it, nodding as though he truly and honestly thought ‘duel to the death’ was a reasonable solution, “Aye. Either Lancelot’d kill me before ‘fate’ wanted me dead, or I’d kill him first and derail the whole damn thing.”

 “Wait, what? Kill?” Sonic’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, stopping mid-step. Gawain continues to usher him forward like a little kid, though, which is starting to get kind of annoying. He digs his heels into the stone and pushes back against the echidna’s strength, “Lancelot is supposed to kill you?!”

“Aye! My kiss of death at Lancelot’s hand will be dealt by the sword with the red hilt!” Gawain waves a hand flippantly, obviously past the point of caring and seeming overall unimpressed by the whole impending-murder prophecy.

“Actually, that was the first thing Merlin told Lancelot when he first arrived at court, too!” The knight sighs wearily, so maybe it still does bother him some, “Not even a greeting! A new arrival, determined to prove himself among the legends of chivalry and champions of justice, guided by tales of fellowship and a kind, just king-”

Sonic lets out a long breath through his nose at all the unnecessary detail and adjectives, very much not moving his feet at all now. Gawain seems to be even stronger than Knuckles is, pushing him forward like Sonic weighs nothing. It’s kind of impressive, but he’s only putting up with this treatment because he’s curious to hear how this story ends, “Only to be immediately accosted by a strange old man! A strange old man with a very big walking stick who points it at this unknown youth’s face and just starts yelling in his face, ‘You! You’re going to kill Gawain, the man you love most, with the sword of the red hilt! It’s your destiny!’”

“...Youth?” For some reason, Sonic’s attention fixes on that weird little detail, squinting at Gawain’s face over his shoulder. The echidna’s obviously an adult, but it’s not like Gawain has an incredible amount of wrinkles or gray hairs, “You’re older than Lancelot?”

“By two years!” Gawain announces proudly, and Sonic’s interest in that sidenote immediately fizzles out. The echidna was just being his usual dramatic self again and making something small seem much bigger and more important than it actually was, “Where was I?”

“Well, neither you or Lancelot seems to be dead, so I’m assuming you didn’t end up challenging him like you planned,” Sonic offers only slightly helpfully before they’re both standing at the bottom of the stairwell. He crosses his arms over his chest as he watches Gawain, in a much better mood, gently open the door without breaking it off its hinges. It still shakes and creaks like the wood is protesting- Gawain definitely isn’t as careful with his strength as Knuckles is.

“Ah, yes! The moment I heard my name mentioned, I immediately knew this was supposed to be my destined rival. I stood up to challenge this knave who hadn’t given anyone his name yet, but before I could call out to him…” The echidna grins wide at the memory, looking incredibly amused and pleased, “Lancelot told Merlin no!”

“Heh,” Sonic is much more amused by Gawain’s good mood, finding that wide smile contagious. The ceiling abruptly goes from patches with holes to clear blue sky piles on either side, which means they’re close to the epicenter of Merlina’s whole freeze-everything-to-save-everyone spell, “How’d Merlin take it?”

 “Exactly as you think!” Gawain laughs heartily, eyes crinkling as his smile stretches across his muzzle, “Simply imagine it, Sir Sonic! The greatest sorcerer of our time. personally responsible for putting Uther and his son on the throne and orchestrating so many other wondrous and terrible events! Used to being respected and feared, only to have this saucy knight without a single deed or accomplishment to his name, tell him directly, ‘Give that quest to someone else, I’m not interested,’ before walking away! Lancelot gave the King’s Advisor his back without a second thought!”

Sonic shakes his head with an amused sigh, not really understanding why this is so funny, but Gawain’s chuckles are hard to resist. Shadow probably wouldn’t have given Merlin an answer, just glower at him and leave to do his own dark hedgehog-y things, like usual. Sonic grins right back at Gawain, “Hehe. Merlin sounds like an intense guy, I can understand why you didn’t like him very much.”

“I did not dislike him,” Gawain says carefully, very obviously trying to make his point as precisely as possible, “Merlin had always been a little odd, always had a habit of speaking in prophecies and riddles, but he wasn’t...”

Gawain pauses as he mulls over his words carefully, obviously searching for the right word before giving up, “He took a turn for the worse after King Arthur lost Excalibur.”

Gawain’s mood dampens to a quiet melancholy, rubbing at the back of his neck as they finally get to the courtyard entrance. Rather, the chipped walkway and pillar markings that show this was once a doorway, “Perhaps that loss was the beginning of the end.”

“Yeah?” Sonic prompts Gawain absently, hand on his hips as he looks at the little garden. It’s odd- this had been the epicenter of Merlina’s magic that had leveled half the castle, but the trees and flowers here seem absolutely fine. Not so much as a broken branch or scattering of leaves across the grass, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, shortly after that, Merlin began acting like he was on a desperate, secret quest,” Gawain goes up to the nearest tree, leaning a hand against the bark as he peers up at the branches, “Frantically looking for signs, muttering to himself that there wasn’t enough time!”

Gawain pulls back and rubs at his forehead, obviously not finding what he was looking for, before moving onto a different tree, “Merlin was then obsessively watching the flight of birds in the sky, scribing into his glass ball for hours, looking into the horizon of the lakeshore and the mouth of the river like he was searching for something...”

Gawain’s eyes slide over to Sonic with an unplaceable emotion, “Or someone?”

That catches Sonic by surprise, stopping mid-step towards the tree, “Me?”

He points to himself, looking around to make sure Gawain isn’t actually talking to Lancelot who suddenly materialized out of nowhere, or someone else, “You think he was looking for me?”

“Who can say?” Gawain answers back just as evasively, nodding towards the second tree and giving it a gentle tap that still has the entire tree shaking. There’s a loud squawk from the branches as two little birds fly out in a panic, and a much less bird-like muttered curse.

 “Lancelot!” The echidna yells up at the tree branches cheerfully, as though he didn’t just try to knock Lancelot off the tree a moment ago.

Sonic squints up at the tree, and sure enough, there is a figure high up in the branches that looks very much like a hedgehog… but is hanging onto the branch in a more sloth-like way. Lancelot obviously hadn’t been in a very stable position before Gawain shook the tree, and appears to have only just managed to avoid being knocked off.

Sonic snorts at this very inelegant and uncool look for the grim hedgehog, and is momentarily sorry Caliburn isn’t here to see this. That sword of his put Lancelot up on too high a pedestal, and would benefit from seeing more of the man and less of the legend.

“Hullo, Lancelot!” Gawain calls out again, waving when the tree-bound hedgehog finally spots them, “What are you up to today?”

“Gawain!” Lancelot answers back just as cheerfully, which is honestly a little weird to hear from someone who looks so much like Shadow but nice that apparently he holds Gawain in high esteem, too, “Sonic!”

Lancelot changes his grip so he is holding onto the branch with one hand, holding out a bundle that… looks like it’s squirming? Huh? Sonic squints at the bundle as what looks like a little, stubby hand shoots out from a space in the fabric, “Impeccable timing! I could use your assistance in this matter!”

-----

‘Be careful what you wish for, Arthur, because you just might get it!’

Sir Ector had told him that so many times as a child when he complained of all his tedious chores and boring lessons. Arthur would much rather dream of adventure and glory as a knight, powerful and brave and noble! Back then he was always running, always rushing to get to this point in time.

Sir Ector was right, of course. His foster father was right about many things, it turned out. Who knew that a normal human being could understand the heart of a blue hedgehog so accurately?

Strange. How strange that he should think of childhood dreams and idle wishes now, making his way up the winding staircase to the tallest tower.. and his guest.

Arthur takes the steps two at a time, impatient to get to the top where he knows Shadow the Hedgehog is brooding.

Probably. It’s difficult to anticipate what the stranger is doing since he is completely unpredictable.

It had been an omen that this Shadow had appeared in a whirlwind of strange magic, materializing out of thin air like a ghost. And like a ghost, he had disappeared just as quickly, dislocating Lamorak’s shoulder and bloodying Sir Hector de Maris’ nose in his haste to get away.

For two weeks, this hedgehog with Lancelot’s face and his frantic energy had wandered throughout the kingdom, lost and confused and very clearly looking for something. While a bit careless with his strength, and very destructive, their strange guest only lashed out when provoked or cornered. (Which was probably why this Shadow favored the castle towers so much. No walls or ceilings to trap him. This was one of Arthur’s favorite places to run away from his duties, too.)

None of his knights had been able to bring Shadow the Hedgehog back, neither by strength of arms or skill of speech. It wasn’t until Camelot’s king himself sought him out, bested him in a duel and coaxed with gentle words did the mighty warrior finally agree to come to court.

(Arthur still isn’t sure how he was the one who managed to connect with this Shadow the Hedgehog. Gawain has the strength of ten men and Percival a patient, silver tongue. Shadow shows a clear disdain for authority and doesn’t seem particularly impressed with Arthur’s laurels, so what? What is it? Is it because they’re both hedgehogs?)

The cloak on his shoulders feels heavy and itchy, and how he longs to take it off- but he does not. Arthur pushes the trap door open, and finds Shadow the Hedgehog on the embrasure. He’s sitting on one of the raised rocks that circle the tower like a crown, one knee pulled against his chest. The other dangles over the side of the wall.

“Hello, Shadow the Hedgehog,” Arthur calls out, adjusting his cloak around his neck to protect from the early morning chill. He kicks the trap door closed behind him, and makes his way to the stone next to the other hedgehog, using it as an armrest as he looks into the gloom of the pre-dawn.

The darkness of night slowly recede as the first spot of distant orange light starts to peek over the tree line, dark purples and blues bathing the emerging silhouettes of the castle town. Shadow’s profile is barely illuminated by the growing light, but his red eyes glimmer with an unnatural light of their own.

“How did you sleep?” Arthur tries again when Shadow doesn’t respond, tilting his head thoughtfully, “Your quarters were comfortable, I presume?”

“What do you want?” Shadow asks brusquely, eyeing him with a guarded suspicion. In cheerful temperament, particularly so early in the morning, Shadow and Lancelot are perfectly matched. (Shadow’s own fault- Arthur had a perfectly decent guest room prepared for him, and his strange visitor hadn’t stepped one foot inside!)

“I want to know how my guest is enjoying my hospitality,” Arthur answers back just as dryly, “And if he needs anything. Clean towels, perhaps?”

“I’m fine,” Shadow looks back to the sky, but his attention is on the straggling stars that are disappearing in the growing morning light. He looks so very lost like that, searching for something he can’t seem to find.

“Are you?” Arthur asks quietly, but just as he anticipated, that snaps Shadow out of his pensive mood, “You don’t act like you’re fine.”

“Don’t you have a kingdom to run?” Shadow fixes him with a fearsome scowl, quills bristling in annoyance.

“Run where?” Arthur grins with a shrug, turning so his elbows are leaning against the stone nonchalantly, “I think it’s doing pretty good here. Where would do better? On the banks of the Misty lake? In the depths of the Crystal Cave?”

Shadow doesn’t look the least but amused with his teasing, frown somehow deepening, “Ugh. Surely there must be something more important you should be doing than bothering me.”

That comment hits a tender part of his heart Arthur had long forgotten, when he was half this size and went by the epithet ‘Wart’ instead. Perhaps not much has changed during that time. Perhaps he’s still just an annoying little boy trying to be what he is not.

“...I suppose there are other matters that need my attention,” Arthur concedes after a long moment, remembering himself and slipping back into his more poised and measured royal voice, “But it is also true that a good king cares for his people.”

Kings had to look forward, not back. He gives Shadow a pleasant but bland smile, focusing on the here and now,  “And a great king extends that hospitality to all his subjects, and all the visitors to his lands. I apologize if I have disturbed you.”

Shadow opens his mouth to argue, a strange emotion flashing in his eyes, there and gone like a bolt of lightning- but he doesn’t do or say anything. He just crosses his arms over his chest and glowers at the forest in the distance, “...Whatever.”

The first rays of the sun are just starting to peek over the horizon, pinks and oranges stretching out across the pale blue sky. It bathes his kingdom with a warm, almost magical glow.

It has been a long time since Arthur has taken the time to see the sunrise. He enjoys the stillness of the sleepy morning. In another hour or so, his kingdom will be bustling and awake, bringing new problems for him to solve. But for now, it’s serene. Calm.

“The sun rises on yet another day, and as the kingdom wakes and goes about its duties, so too must its king,” Arthur pushes off the stone and clasps his hands behind his back, projecting the calm confidence his people have come to expect from him.

“If you are feeling more sociable today, breakfast will be served in the banquet hall. We would be most delighted to enjoy your company, if you are willing to grant it,” Arthur has learned to be careful with his word choice and tone, since it carries much more power than he realizes. An invitation could be read as an undeniable request, and a request a threat.

“Tch. Yeah, right,” Shadow scoffs, mouth twisting into a grimace as he rolls his eyes. Clearly not an issue with this Shadow the Hedgehog, “Just leave me alone.”

Such a remark could have been interpreted as treasonous if Arthur was a less patient man. (As it turns out, this flippant disregard for his position is delightful, making Arthur feel more like a person than a figurehead, for once. Even Kay’s barbed teasing and affectionate insults had lost their bite the moment Arthur the Hedgehog became King Arthur of Logres.) Arthur allows himself a small smile.

“And so you shall be!” Arthur shrugs, forgetting himself for a moment, “Enjoy acting like a gargoyle! You’ve got the fearsome scowl down perfectly.”

Shadow’s eyes flicker to him briefly, but he doesn’t respond

“If you should need anything, ask me directly, please. My knights are proud, and they won’t forget or forgive that they lost to an unarmed and unknighted knave-“

“I'm only going to say this once,“ Shadow crosses one leg over the other as turns to give Arthur his full attention, “I’m not a knave or a churl or a boor or whatever strange terms you guys insist on using. I’m a hedgehog. Only a hedgehog.”

“That’s not what that means-“ Arthur starts to try to explain, but Shadow cuts him off.

“I don’t care.” Shadow tosses his head imperiously, “Whoever calls me anything but hedgehog is going to get a kick to the head.”

They stand in silence a moment longer, watching the sky continue to lighten.

“I’ll pass along your message, but I can’t promise my knights won’t try to use this knowledge to challenge you,” Arthur turns and starts walking to the door, waving a hand over his shoulder, “Well then. Good day to you-“

Just as Arthur is about to go back inside, Shadow speaks up.

“Wait.”

Arthur pauses, ear swiveling backwards before he turns to face Shadow again

“I have... a question,” Shadow says slowly and carefully, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s a tension to his shoulders that looks like wariness, almost like he’s bracing himself for a negative reaction. “Tell me the truth.”

Arthur has long learned to keep his facial expressions bland and approachable, never giving too much of his inner thoughts away- but he feels his heart beat faster. It feels like Shadow is about to ask for a boon, and this one probably isn’t as simple as granting him a year-long apprenticeship with Kay in the kitchens or the company of one of his knights on a quest.

Arthur isn’t sure he’ll be able to give this stranger what he’s going to ask for.

“Ask freely, sir,” Arthur chooses each word deliberately, carefully, used to this verbal dance. He taps his foot against the stones at his feet, trying to rid himself of nervous energy, “You have my word that, should I not know, my knights will venture forth to seek whatever answers may be available.”

Encompassing enough the petitioner feels like they are being listened to but narrow enough to be feasible.

“Am I... Lancelot?”

“Huh?” Arthur is not usually at a loss for words, but all he can do is stare. He picks at his ear discreetly, certain he must have misheard, “Um. I fear the wind carried off your words before I could hear them-“

“Am I Lancelot?” Shadow repeats, annoyed, turning to face him with a defensive hunch to his shoulders.

“I don’t know,” Arthur answers honestly, like he promised, crossing his arms over his chest as he scrutinizes Shadow head to toe, “Let me see.”

Though physically very similar, there are a few small but significant differences.

Shadow’s fur is short and sleek, and there are no scars visible anywhere on his body, certainly none over his eye. The divide between his red and black fur is precise, like it was stitched together by a tailor’s skilled hand. It’s nothing like the wild, asymmetrical streaks of red enchantment on Lancelot. They both have strong, proud shoulders, but Shadow’s have a sag of doubt to them. For all his faults, for all sins, Lancelot has never doubted the convictions of his heart and soul. (Arthur hopes he never sees the day his dear friend’s shoulders carry the heaviness of weary regret like that. He misses Lancelot dearly, wishing him well wherever his latest quest has taken him.)

“No,” Arthur answers at last, nodding definitively, “You aren’t Lancelot.”

Shadow doesn’t acknowledge his answer, and he doesn’t look back at him or move. When Arthur is just about to repeat himself, however, Shadow asks quietly, “How do you know?”

What a strange question! Intrigued, Arthur decides the castle can spare him for a little longer. He sits next to Shadow, dangling his legs over the side of the embrasure like the unusual hedgehog. It’s exhilarating, sending a warm thrill to Arthur’s soul that he didn’t even know he craved. Shadow tenses next to him, but does not move.

“Well, for one, Lancelot would never wake up this early,” Arthur answers, lightheartedly, kicking his feet pensively, “Lancelot is sleep’s favorite knight, and when he is in her embrace, she is reluctant to give him back to the world of the wakeful.”

“What are you talking about?” Shadow looks at him like he grew another head, tone confused and angry. (Shadow seems to be angry a lot.) “What does any of that mean!?”

Impatient, impatient! Shadow and Lancelot share that in common, too. Arthur laughs despite himself, shrugging airily with a mischievous wink, “It means he’s a heavy sleeper and would never get up to see a sunrise. It also means I'll give you a better answer if you ask a better question.”

Shadow looks slightly taken aback, something flashing through those vivid red eyes of his. It’s gone just as quickly. His eyes are like storm clouds, Arthur thinks distantly, never calm even when he’s still.

“You say you’re King Arthur,” there’s a hint of a sneer to Shadow’s tone, like he’s stating the obvious, “You should know exactly who your best knight is.”

“I do know Lancelot,” Arthur concedes, amused by this challenge, “I know Lancelot well! He’s a good friend and an even better knight! “The way he moves on the battlefield is captivating! He’s so fast it’s like he’s not even moving!”

He takes great pleasure in watching Lancelot fight, gesturing with his hands as he gets swept up in the story, “Just appearing and disappearing like- like lightning! He’s got such a reputation that most knights are afraid to challenge him directly- with good reason!- so he disguises himself to get a fair fight!”

Arthur sighs in dreamy acknowledgement, wishing his place was on the field instead of the throne, too, “He is truly worthy of the title of ultimate knight.”

“Hmm,” Shadow manages to make a wordless grunt sound derisive, looking incredibly unimpressed, “That’s not useful at all.”

“Like I said- if you ask better questions, I’ll give you better answers,” Arthur arches a quizzical brow in Shadow’s direction, matching the other hedgehog’s condescension, “I am not privy to the thoughts in Lancelot’s head or the emotions in Lancelot’s breast, save those he chooses to share with me.”

Shadow‘s scowl deepens, “I don’t have time for your riddles, hedgehog.”

“Riddles, Huh?” Arthur leans on the stone to his side, looking up at the sky as he feels the sun warm his back. There’s a pang of longing for his wild, old mentor, who disappeared from his life as quickly as he came. Poor Merlina has some very big shoes to fill… If Merlin was truly gone.

It’s possible and entirely probable the wizard was responsible for Shadow’s sudden arrival, and would be by to check on him eventually… if Merlin realized whatever he was trying to do worked. Or didn’t work. It was always very difficult to tell with wizards.

“Anyway!” Shaking his head free of thoughts of Merlin, Arthur gestures to the well-groomed patch of fur on Shadow’s chest, “You are in a better position to judge if the heart that beats in your chest is also that of Sir Lancelot of the Lake.”

Shadow doesn’t look satisfied with that answer, glowering at the landscape below again. He doesn’t say anything back.

“You asked for my opinion and I gave it to you. You are not Lancelot,” Arthur repeats, confused, “Does this answer trouble you?”

“What? No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous” Shadow says it quickly, more like he’s trying to convince himself than Arthur. He shakes his head as if dislodging his doubts, “It doesn’t matter. Nevermind.”

Shadow swings his legs back up to stand on the lower stone, crouching down to look at the ground below. He looks like he’s trying to calculate the distance- Surely this hedgehog isn’t mad or desperate enough to throw himself down?!

“Wait, stop! I’ve got a question for you, too!” Arthur interrupts Shadow’s thoughts loudly, sincerely concerned this stranger is about to hurl himself off the tower. He moves towards the center of the tower, away from the edge in the hopes Shadow will unconsciously follow him. (Shadow does not.) “Why the change of heart?”

As hoped, Shadow is distracted and back looks up, “Huh? What do you mean?”

“You were very clear in asserting yourself as ‘Shadow the Hedgehog the world’s Ultímate Lifeform’ when you first arrived in my castle’s halls. You were insulted at the idea that you would be compared and mistaken for another! Absolutely adamant that you were not Lancelot.”

Arthur pauses briefly for a moment, waiting for a reaction, but Shadow doesn’t give him one. Not very emotive, this fellow. “If you were so sure you arrived here as Shadow the Hedgehog, the ultimate life form, why do you think you’ve become Sir Lancelot of the Lake?”

He doesn’t think Shadow is going to answer him. The other hedgehog clenches his hand into a fist, tight enough it looks painful, before finally responding, “Everyone has been calling me Lancelot.”

It’s said softly, like an admission of guilt, but it seems innocuous enough.

“You bear a striking resemblance to him. Does this trouble you?” Arthur prompts gently, not sure what to make of this... revelation? It seems very minor and insignificant, but it’s obviously important to Shadow.

“They seem sure that I am Lancelot,” Shadow continues, crossing his arms over his chest looking up to the sky like he may find answers or comfort among the clouds.

They? Who’s they?

“And… their conviction outweighs your own?” Arthur continues, tapping his chin thoughtfully, only pausing when Shadow fixes him with an offended glare.

“No,“ Shadow snarls like it’s pressing on a tender wound, gesturing impatiently at the scenery, “It's the environment that matches their conviction.”

“I see,” Arthur agrees even though he really doesn’t understand what Shadow is talking about. Is he trying to say he comes from a world devoid of forests and magic and castles and lakes? How dreadful!

“It all has the right physical properties and endurance,” Shadow continues almost like he’s distracted, suddenly kicking at the arrow slit under his previous seat. The thick, solid rock breaks under the force of his sabaton, the entire left side of the opening falling to the ground with a thud. Shadow picks it up like it weighs nothing, chucking it over the edge of the tower. They both watch the rock plummet to the ground until it is nothing but a small dot shattering into hundreds of smaller specks, “Everything follows the laws of physics.”

“Hm,” Arthur gives a noncommittal grunt as he runs his hand against the now much bigger hole, impressed at Shadow’s strength. He might even have Gawain working up a sweat!

“Water corrodes metal at the same rate. Plants die if they are snapped in half,” Shadow moves so he’s standing again, still uncomfortably close to the edge, “Things that are broken or damaged remain that way until they are repaired or replaced.”

Although Arthur still doesn’t quite understand Shadow’s monologue, something clicks.

“Is that what you’ve been doing since you came here?” He asks, thinking back to the reports of the half-mad hedgehog doing nonsensical things with a frightening intensity and ferocious strength. Apparently there was a purpose to his carving varying lines on the trees in the forest, leaving an assortment of strange items in a pool of water and examining them days later, and interrogating the locals on the present and near past. “Conducting tests?”

“Of course,” Shadow looks at him oddly, as though the question is inconceivable, “Why else?”

Arthur knows a verbal trap when he sees one, even the inadvertent ones, and he sidesteps graciously, “Why play such coy guessing games when the truth is easily obtained from the one in front of me?”

“Hm,” Shadow doesn’t look convinced but strangely enough, he doesn’t argue. There’s a weird tension in Shadow’s shoulders again, but why would ‘truth’ elicit such a reaction?

Arthur moves on, “And what have you determined, friend?”

“Physical sensations and wants don’t change my perception of this world, and there are too many details that go beyond my frame of reference, so it’s unlikely it’s a dream.”

“...Physical wants?” These remarks trouble Arthur greatly, scrutinizing Shadow more closely. There’s no bags under his eyes and his fur looks healthy enough, but... “When’s the last time you slept? Are you hungry?”

Shadow rubs at the back of his neck with a sigh, not listening or choosing not to reply, mostly talking to himself at this point, “I may be back in stasis, but that’s always been dreamless... unless my memory is being tampered with again. But that’s a delicate and complicated procedure, and certainly wouldn’t be wasted on something this meaningless-“

“It’s not meaningless! And I would ask you to never refer to my kingdom as such again, Shadow the Hedgehog,” Arthur interrupts sternly, using the commanding tone he has mastered but is still loath to use.

Shadow looks up sharply like he is broken from a trance, blinking at Arthur owlishly like he doesn’t understand the outrage. The king gentles his tone as he gestures to the castle grounds, “Camelot is the dreams of peace and brotherhood made real. My knights, my people, and all our forefathers have made tremendous Efforts and suffered many sacrifices to bring it to fruition.”

He makes eye contact, every word spoken with conviction, “Even if this dream only lasts a moment, it was worth it. Even if the impact is as fleeting as the sands of time, it was good.”

Arthur puts his hand over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, “I am proud of what we’ve accomplished and what we will accomplish. And no matter how treacherous the path, even if my heart shatters into a thousand pieces and the bitterest tears wet my cheeks at the closing, I will never regret any of it.”

“...”

Shadow doesn’t look away. He looks at Arthur as if seeing him in a new light.

“I understand. That is your conviction, and I respect it,” Shadow gives what Arthur supposes is an apology and acknowledgement, although it isn’t either. Arthur is a proud man, too, and the lack of a clear repentance grates on him-

“Thank you, Arthur,” Shadow closes his eyes as if in thought, and for a brief moment, he looks like he’s at peace, “You reminded me of something important I had almost forgotten.”

Shadow smiles. It’s a beautiful thing, small but genuine, like sunlight peeking through dreary storm clouds, “Even If my memories and environment are artificial, I’m still me. I’m Shadow.”

He opens his eyes again, looking determined, “And I will do what I must to keep the promise I made. Wherever I am.”

Just like that, Arthur’s irritation is quickly overtaken by a bloom of warmth in his chest. Shadow is terse and cold, but his soul is noble and his heart is devoted. He may not be Lancelot, but Shadow has the makings of a fine knight. He will undoubtedly achieve great things, too, and Arthur hopes he’ll be able to at least hear about them.

Arthur knows that he’ll break the serene spell Shadow is under if he speaks. He wants to savor this moment, commit it to memory forever- but he can’t help himself. As impulsive as when he took that weathered sword out of a rock, Arthur blurts out, “You have a beautiful smile, Shadow the Hedgehog.”

“...Hmph,” Shadow frowns at him disdainfully, although there’s no heat in his scowl. It seems primarily for effect, like Shadow’s not sure how else he’s supposed to respond to a compliment like that. What a strange man, unable to apologize or accept a compliment!

“I hope this will not be the last time I am acquainted with it,” Arthur tells him sincerely, noting but not commenting on how Shadow’s ears twitch, “It suits you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath,” Shadow tries to sound annoyed but it comes out amused. Unfortunately the frown makes a comeback rather quickly as Shadow crosses his arms over his chest. Ah Well. The sun has already risen enough that the telltale hustle and bustle of the morning is coming from the courtyard, even if it’s very faint at this height. He’s spent too long away from his duties already.

“Join me for breakfast!” Arthur offers Shadow his arm, but the other hedgehog looks at his arm then at him blankly, like he doesn’t understand the gesture. Perhaps they don’t do that where Shadow is from? “Follow me. It’s a bit of a walk, perfect for building up an appetite-“

“Walk?“ Shadow repeats incredulously, looking somewhat disturbed by the notion, “You?“

“My legs work just as well as yours, Shadow the Hedgehog,” Insulted, again, Arthur crosses his arms over his chest, arching a brow disdainfully, “Would you prefer I request a litter to carry me like I was grievously ill? Perhaps call up two of my strongest knights to parade me around on their shoulders like an infant?”

The blue hedgehog shakes his head incredulously, tapping his thigh as if to demonstrate its physicality, “I got here on my own two feet, and I’ll leave here the same way!“

Arthur has an incredibly childish urge to stick his tongue out at Shadow that he is barely able to resist, “Unless you are volunteering to carry me down yourself, then I intend to use them!”

“Sire!” Well, more like broken open, as Gawain’s armored fist tears through the solid wood easily. (Arthur makes a mental note to get the tower and the door repaired.) The knight of the sun runs up to him, a worried frown darkening his face, “Are you well, my lord?!”

“I'm great!” Arthur tries to keep his composure, but he’s still energized from the unexpected adventure. Lamorak, his newest knight, is the first to follow after Gawain, followed by more of his knights. Kay is the very last one through the door, looking bored and unconcerned as he picks at his sharp teeth. Typical. His brother didn’t care about things outside of his area of responsibility, and he knew Arthur could take care of himself. 

Arthur gives his knights a reassuring smile, gesturing at them to lower their weapons, which most do with varying levels of reluctance. Lamorak, notably, does not, but the hawk is too hungry to make a name for himself to ever take a passive role. Most of his other knights seem content to let Gawain take the lead, “Shadow just showed me the most marvelous trick with the wind, ‘Wain! It was like a dream-”

“Is that so?” Gawain glances at Arthur, scanning him quickly for visible injuries, before turning his attention to Shadow. He puts himself between the hedgehogs, standing in front of his king as he eyes Shadow warily, “Where is your cape? Did this churl take it?”

Arthur sighs deeply as Gawain doesn't see him. His knight noticed his symbol of authority was missing, but Gawain didn’t notice the brightness in Arthur’s eyes or the genuine smile on his face. A true warrior and protector, so focused on the potential threat to the crown that he doesn’t realize the crown is fine. Actually, the crown is better than he has been in a long time.

“I’m a hedgehog,” Shadow answers Gawain defiantly with a chilly glower of his own. 

“And what do I want with a rag?” Shadow crosses his arms over his chest, a sign of dismissive self-assurance that has Gawain bristling. Only someone very brave or very foolish would dare face Gawain when the sun is so high in the sky, and Arthur isn’t sure which one Shadow is as he keeps antagonizing the knight of the sun, “Your king is simply careless.”

“How dare you!” Gawain takes an aggressive step forward, slicing the air with his hand in his outrage. Some of his other knights react poorly to the comment, too, making sounds of disagreement as their hands rest on their weapons threateningly. (It’s a pity Guin isn’t there. She’s mastered the art of laughing in her eyes while keeping her expression prim and proper, and she would have undoubtedly agreed with Shadow’s assessment. At least Lamorak, still so new to knighthood and not yet versed in the ways of the court, guffaws as his beak widens in an amused smile that makes Arthur feel like he’s more than just a king.)

“Do not speak to him so familiarly, imposter!” Gawain demands angrily, circling Shadow warily.  In his haste, the knight of the sun did not bring Galatine with him, but his armored fists and legendary strength are formidable enough on their own.

“Imposter?!” Shadow echoes back, offended, baring his teeth in a snarl. He matches Gawain step for step, quills bristling up angrily, “Me?!”

“You may look like Lancelot, but you cannot fool me!” Gawain cracks his knuckles, and stretches his shoulder, telltale signs he’s getting ready to fight, “I will not allow you to try and steal Lancelot’s place! Just like you took the king’s cape, no doubt! You are undoubtedly seeking to replace him as the Queen’s champion!”

“Gawain…” Arthur calls out wearily, knowing that now that he’s worked up, the echidna won’t listen to anyone- not even the king, “He didn’t take my cape, the wind did.”

Gawain, predictably, ignores him since his attention is glued on Shadow.

“You have Lancelot’s face, but nothing else!” Gawain reaches back and lunges forward, fist first. Shadow jumps out of the way, but the force of the wind nearly knocks Kay off of his feet, “You don’t have his skill!”

“Kay-” Arthur starts to call out to his foster brother, but the green hedgehog waves him off irritably as he dusts off the front of his robe.

“His grace!” Gawain roars, throwing another punch Shadow skillfully avoids, although the stone floor isn’t so lucky. Debris flies into the air as several cobblestones burst with the force of the impact.

Shadow doesn’t dodge the next punch so much as he disappears from where it was aimed. “And none of his honor- Huh?!”

Gawain only has a few moments to look confused before Shadow appears behind him in a flash of energy. The hedgehog’s eyebrows are drawn together tightly in a ferocious scowl, and in the blink of an eye, Shadow kicks the knight in the back of the head. 

Gawain’s helmet takes the brunt of the impact, metal meeting metal with a hollow clunk, but the force of it still sends the echidna flying face-first into the ground. It’s deathly silent as everyone seems to hold their breath, surprised and not sure how to react.

Shadow kicked Gawain in the back of the head.

Gawain shakes his head, looking at Shadow over his shoulder with a bewildered expression. The serious hedgehog glowers back at him, half-crouched down like he’s ready to continue the fight. Time has come to a standstill in this long, quiet moment.

It’s not funny that Shadow kicked Sir Gawain of Orkney, knight of the sun and a proud son of Camelot, in the head.

Gawain’s temper and hostility make sense- he’s worried about Lancelot. He sees a stranger with his best friend’s face and immediately assumes it’s Shadow’s doing. Quite a reasonable assumption, given Lancelot’s mixed experiences with magic. Even worse, Shadow is with Camelot’s king now, and is too dangerous an unknown to leave unchallenged. Gawain was simply getting carried away while trying to protect those he loved.

Shadow, for all his stoic indifference, is disoriented and frustrated. He doesn’t understand his new social environment, or realize how his words and actions are seen as provocative and insulting. Well, initially anyway. When Gawain unfavorably compared him to Lancelot, the echidna pushed on the still tender wound of his self doubt. Naturally, Shadow lashed out to protect himself and assert himself as powerful and capable by his own merits.

It’s not funny at all, in fact, it’s serious- Arthur only has moments to think of a suitable solution that keeps Gawain from being embarrassed, mollifies his knights, and somehow protects and restrains Shadow all at the same time. And yet laughter bubbles in his chest because Shadow kicked Gawain in the back of the head for calling him something other than ‘hedgehog.’ Just like he promised he would.

“Arthur?” Kay asks from his side in a moment, although he doesn’t look particularly concerned. His brother has a habit of sniffing out trouble and getting in the midst of it, no matter the collateral damage. Kay’s sharp teeth are pulled into a smile, blue eyes glinting with mean delight, which means he found this just as amusing as Arthur did, “Are you laughing?”

Of course his brother would use this opportunity to try and drag him into this, and make Arthur the object of ridicule instead! Kay’s sense of humor is as sharp and deadly as his green quills, and always pops up at the most inconvenient time.

“Of course not!” Arthur regains his composure quickly, laying a hand against Kay’s shoulder with a strained smile and a subtle glare to convey his annoyance, “I was choking in surprise!”

Kay, as expected, doesn’t look the least bit regretful, shrugging his brother’s hand off with a flippant wave. With a low sigh, Arthur makes his way to where Shadow is standing and Gawain is getting to his feet. He slips back into his royal persona like a glove, “Splendid! I asked you to impress me, Shadow the Hedgehog, and you have not disappointed!”

Arthur claps his hand on Gawain’s back, giving his knight a friendly shake, “Rare are those who can catch Sir Gawain by surprise, and rarer still those who can land a single blow! Particularly when the sun is casting her full blessing on him! You have proven yourself, and I will grant your boon!”

“A test.” Gawain brushes some dust from his pauldron, moving his arm in such a way that his rippling muscles are in full display. The echidna eyes Shadow with distaste, forgetting himself and demanding an answer from Arthur rather than asking, “Boon? What boon?”

Arthur lets it slide with great relief, elated that Gawain readily accepts the explanation without further questioning, “The boon of being given the opportunity to prove his worth in skill of arms, noble deeds, and succor to those in need.”

It’s not an uncommon request, in fact, many of Arthur’s current knights have asked for this same boon. Gareth the Armadillo seems to be particularly moved by this request, likely remembering his own path to knighthood. He exchanges a glance with Gawain, pointedly relaxing his posture as if proving to his older brother that there was no need for hostility. Several other knights follow Gareth’s lead, willing to give Shadow an opportunity to prove himself after his impressive demonstration against Gawain. 

Arthur feels his shoulders begin to relax-

“Strange,” Kay comments airily from the side, buffing his claws against his vest. His eyes are calculating and cold, scrutinizing Shadow in a way that leaves Arthur increasingly nervous. His brother’s voice is cloyingly sweet as he asks, “My King usually extends this boon to every hopeful, young squire who stumbles through the doorway… Not getting stingy, are you, Wart?”

“Sir Kay,” Gareth gives the green hedgehog a disapproving frown, voice cool but calm, “You would do well to remember your place and to hold that sharp tongue of yours.”

His ears twitch as the armadillo smiles in Shadow’s direction, “This fellow does not strike me as patient and forgiving as our king.”

“Hear, hear!” Someone calls from the left, setting off a volley of snickering that has Kay’s quills bristling in annoyance. Arthur does wish his brother would speak a little less loudly and boldly so the target on his back wouldn’t be quite so big. 

“Tch,” Kay sucks air between his teeth dismissively, biting his thumb in Gareth’s direction with a scoff, “Perhaps this Shadow’s request was just as pathetic as yours, Beaumains-”

“Kay!” Gawain comes in defense of his brother, looking over his shoulder at Kay in obvious warning. Much to the armadillo’s chagrin, who felt his ‘big brother’ weighing in on his disputes discredited Gareth’s own deeds and reputation. Gawain would answer back hotly, and this is would devolve into unnecessary family spat-