Kay has a visitor (Patreon)

Kay shot out of the carriage before it could properly judder to a stop in front of the Estate. He landed on the gravel with a loud, crunchy thud. The impact sent a jolt that traveled from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, but still could not shake off the grin on his lips. It threatened to split his face just so it could better accommodate it.

Lance followed behind, dropping off far more calmly. His demeanor was so subdued next to Kay’s that one who regarded them side by side could almost call him melancholy. Yet by Lance standards, it was as wild an expression of joy as you could conceive.

He scanned their surroundings with bright, gleaming eyes – it made their gray as sharp as the freshly whetted blade of a sword – looking for the three figures Lance was most excited to see whenever arriving at Kay’s home.

And they wouldn’t disappoint him this time either. A nearby bush shook fretfully, spooking all the nearby birds, rudely interrupted from their merry warbling. Three furry beasts leapt out, the largest reaching all the way to Kay’s waist. The patter of their paws filled the air, resounding through the trees flanking the roadway up to the Castle, coalescing with their huffs and puffs and barks.

They assaulted both boys; a storm of fluff, wagging tails and unfettered joy descended upon them. Kay petted and scratched, not sure where one dog began and ended in that swarming pile of excitement, doing his best to avoid a wet lick to the face. He was left alone soon enough as all three dogs converged on Lance who, as always, had cheated his way into their undivided attention by bringing tasty treats for them.

“You know,” Kay said, smile turning mischievous as he watched Lance struggle to pet everyone. If he took his hand off one to scratch the other, his attention was promptly urged back by an urgent prod of a snoot into his side. “I have the growing suspicion you’re only visiting to spend time with them, not me.”

“Why else?” Lance replied, voice laced with amusement as Archie licked his cheek in endearing – and slobbering – greeting.

Kay placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Oh! So you admit?”

Lance looked him square in the eye. “Yes.”

They both burst into laughter.

“I see you’re already having fun.”

Ector appeared from the side of the Castle, approaching slowly and brightly as he leaned on his cane, which he’d carved himself – either by the fire on rainy days, or out in the garden on sunny ones, regaling Arthur and Kay with all sorts of tales.

The dogs flocked to Ector, abandoning both boys; Poppy licked his hand in the hopes the gesture would yield a hidden treat as it did with Lance. All she received was a scratch behind the ears, which seemed just as good a substitute.

“How was training?”

Kay’s mentor always had complaints to balance out all the praise he had for his performance. His excitement and self-assuredness were both virtues and failings. This time, however, he had only good words to impart to his parents.

Kay put his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest. “Sir says I’ve been applying myself more and more. Thanks to my sparring partner.” He glanced at Lance, who was openly smiling. Kay couldn’t quite tell whether the pride in his expression was directed at him, Lance himself or both; everyone thought of the boy as very humble and modest, but Kay knew he ate up compliments like his dogs gobbled up treats. He was just better at not showing it. The lack of a tail to wag certainly helped.

Ector smiled, eyes crinkling. The warmth in his gaze was undoubtedly directed at both of them. “Then it’s cause for celebration and some good rest, isn’t it?”

“Yes! And we’ll start by lazing about in the garden, won’t we Lance?” Kay had bought a new board game from Camelot town, and it was all he talked about as they rode home.

“With cake and lemonade?” Ector asked.

Kay pumped his fist in the air. “With cake and lemonade!”

There was a small, cozy wooden gazebo out in the sprawling yard, nestled at the heart of the flower garden. All its cobblestone paths, flanked by neatly trimmed, colorful beds of roses, daisies and carnations, converged towards this one simple yet elegant structure. Many times when playing, Kay and Arthur had fancied it as anything from castle or tower to dungeon. This time, for Lance and him, it was merely a gazebo offering shelter from the sun and a comfortable place to spread out the new board game.

They both poured over the rulebook, and carefully took out the little figurines and map to spread out. Kay loved board games. He’d long forsaken the simple ones that required the player to get from point A to point B for ones with far more intricate rules and requirements – though the former were fun, too, if you didn’t want to have to leaf through booklets to know if you could make the move you wanted. Kay especially adored the games that had some story attached to them and allowed you to make choices and had you think of your actions, and let your imagination run wild.

They were visited every now and then by the dogs, thrusting sniffing, curious noses amid their game to catch a whiff of the tiny little wooden-carved humans, or the fabric, threaded map spread between them. Sensing no treat hidden in the game box, they’d move on to nudging Kay’s or Lance’s side for pets.

They played well into the afternoon, and at some point progressed to simply laying down on thew wooden floor of the gazebo, chatting about all sorts of things in quiet voices, enjoying every little breeze that’d blow over them, carrying the heady fragrance of the garden on its gentle wings.

The sun was slowly slinking down towards the horizon, bathing everything in warm golden, turning yellow leaves to bronze, giving the green foliage a verdant luster. Long shadows played across the garden, making it look as if figures lurked between the trees. The woods beyond the yard were rendered dark and deep and mysterious. A keen yearning to explore ached within Kay’s chest, but he knew Lance would call it dangerous at such a late hour, or whatever else adult nonsense.

Kay started up, seized by a need to move.

“Duel me?” Kay asked.

“We just had training this morning,” Lance said, brow quirked and bemused smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, but this is so very different,” Kay said, “we use wooden swords, and embellish more than our mentors would approve of. Imagine we’re facing some fearsome beast! It’s much more fun.”

Despite his initial protest, Lance wasn’t about to turn down a challenge. He didn’t just fight the best among the squires his age – he fought like his life depended on it, like he truly did enjoy that thrill. Kay too loved it, though he never took it quite as seriously as him. He doubted anyone else did.

Kay fetched the swords from where they kept all outdoors toys, and they took position out on a stretch of grass with no flowers to trample or thorny bushes to get knocked down onto. There were, however, trees to take cover and climb, which made it a fitting playground.

“Why are we dueling?” Kay asked as he twirled the wooden toy between his fingers.

Lance contemplatively tapped the tip of his sword against his boot. “We’re rival knights, fighting over our injured honor.”

They threw themselves into battle, wooden swords meeting with a resounding thunk. One would have thought they’d spent all their energy, zeal and sweat on their training earlier that day; yet they now fought with renewed verve. They jumped over roots, scurried up low branches and circled each other, throwing taunts in accordance with their roles.

Kay had just been forced back against a tree trunk by Lance’s relentless, decisive attacks when motion caught his eye. The double-doors, leading into the back veranda, were opened just enough for a head to peek through, as coyly as the feeble, transparent silhouette of the moon, waiting to take her reign of the sky after the sun had completely sunk.

Kay raised a hand in greeting. “Arthur!”

Lance thrust the sword forward. “Got you,” he said with a smirk.

Kay looked down. The sword was slid in the space between his torso and arm – but in the terms of their story, it was lodged between his ribs.

“That wasn’t fair! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“And that’s my fault how?” Lance demanded, shrugging one shoulder.

Kay puffed and shook his head, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

Arthur’s small, nervous figure fully emerged from behind the great doors, followed closely by Bear. He skipped down the stairs, approaching them like a skittish kitten that did not quite know how to act around the older cats. He’d always been a timid kid, even among his peers. The only ones who he felt the most well at ease with were, by his own admission, his family and Elewen, who might as well have been his sister – only more scaly and sharp-nailed.

Lance inclined his head in greeting and Kay called out, leaning against the tree trunk: “Back from the Temple?”

He and their mother had taken a trip to a Temple of the Lady of the Lake back in Camelot town, though they did not depart by the same carriage, let alone the same time. Kay was up preparing for training before the sun could yet cast its first bloodless, gray rays upon the land; by the time he left, Arthur and his mother were barely rousing.

“Were you playing? Did I interrupt?” Arthur asked. He’d buried his fingers deep into Bear’s fluffy brown mane, holding on as if for support.

“You helped Lance defeat me.”

“Oh,” Arthur blinked innocently. “I had the impression he was already winning.”

Lance turned to Kay in expectations of his protests, eyes twinkling with amusement. Kay would not indulge him.

“Well, no matter. I demand a rematch.”

Lance’s fingers flexed and tightened on the wooden grip in silent acceptance of the challenge.

Arthur jumped in, face bright and hopeful. “Can I join too?”

Both boys eagerly included him and as was their tacit understanding, tempered their force and zest, though not their enthusiasm. Kay put on a dramatic performance for Arthur’s amusement in the role of the villain he and Lance had to defeat, and Lance in turn was patient and gentle when evincing tricks and trips for the younger boy, in a way you scarcely would have guessed he was capable of after witnessing how ruthless he could be in training. Arthur hung onto his every word, fixing him with eyes as starry as the deepening sky unfolding above them. It opened many opportunities Kay could have taken to defeat him, but he ignored them all; he liked letting Arthur win, just to let him savor that giddy triumph.

Kay had got himself cornered for the second time that day, this time by Lance and Arthur alike. The former raised his sword, haloed by the twilight sky, urging Arthur to do the same as to deliver the blow together. Neither came.

A silhouette cut out straight from the shadows leapt high between the boys, sending them tottering back. They all watched, perplexed, as Bear ran away with Lance’s sword held in its mouth as if it was any of the other twigs and branches he picked from the yard and brandished about hoping to find someone to tug at the opposite end.

Arthur was the first to burst into laughter, followed quickly by the other two. As Lance gave chase to retrieve his sword, only to be pulled into a game of tug, Kay wiped at the tears clouding his vision, breathless yet chuckling. His lowered guard and inattention were yet again exploited.

Arthur gently thrust his sword at Kay’s sore stomach and grinned up at him. “I win.”

He laughed anew – an explosive burst of air through his nose – before assuming a dramatic pose. “Indeed you have!”

He and Arthur discarded their toy weapons and sat down on the grass, watching Lance completely give up on retrieving his sword – an intent Kay really doubted he had in the first place – to instead play with Bear, to the dog’s delight.

“Lance really is something else with a sword, isn’t he?” Arthur asked. He’d folded up his legs to his chest and looped his arms around them, effectively making himself into a tiny little ball.

“He is. Wait till you become a squire too and spar with him in training. He really is relentless.”

A smile pulled at Arthur lips as he rested his chin on his knees, eyes fixed on Lance as if held to the boy by an invisible thread. It wasn’t the first time Arthur had made a comment on Lance to Kay, or an inquiry he was far too shy to direct at Lance himself; and he’d seen that transfixed look on him before, drinking in everything Lance said or did.

A mischievous smile playing on his lips, Kay leant in and whispered, “Why are you so interested in Lance? Do you like him or what?”

The boy started then froze, as if caught red-handed. He turned to his brother with wide, alarmed eyes, flitting between Kay and Lance as if the breeze might have carried the words to the latter.

“Wait,” Kay stared back just as surprised. He had only been half-serious. “You really do?”

Arthur fretted and fussed, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. “No! I just…admire him,” he said, voice coming off muffled as he hid his face in the burrow between his arms and folded legs.

Kay smiled. “It’s alright. I promise not to tell.” Arthur mumbled something that may have been a thank, may have been a protest. Maybe both.

Kay turned towards Lance, who, for all his skill and talents, had been sent right on his butt by an overly-enthusiastic Bear. Nothing majestic about it, yet Arthur still peeked at him as if he were some knightly hero from one of his books. Little kids always had such infatuations on older kids – he too had been enthralled by a noble’s daughter when he was Arthur’s age, and her older then than Kay was now. He’d been far more daunting than Arthur is his romantic ventures though, bringing her flowers as gifts which she always received with a smile and tousle of his hair.

“Hey,” he nudged Arthur’s knee with his own. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you, whatever.”

“I know,” Arthur said, raising his face to fully meet Kay’s eye; there were no reservations in it.

“Good.” Then Kay threw out an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, pulled him into his side and squeezed till the boy started laughing.

Author's note: I feel people will go wild over a particular detail 👀 Also, just to be clear: the noble's daughter Kay refers to is not his future wife - Hilde is about the same age as him.