[ It is. Lancelot regards her a moment, gaze calm but curious as he looks up at where she sits.
She is still the Morgana who ripped the veil asunder. Who took Camelot. Who raged against Arthur.
Yet Arthur, he thinks, Arthur would not want her harmed truly. Not if there was another way. Not if she could be helped.
Neither would Lancelot want such a thing.
He inclines his head in acceptance after a moment, reaches down to scoop up his puppy. She wiggles in distress, wanting to be on her feet where she can defend him, but he holds her steady. ]
action;
She is still the Morgana who ripped the veil asunder. Who took Camelot. Who raged against Arthur.
Yet Arthur, he thinks, Arthur would not want her harmed truly. Not if there was another way. Not if she could be helped.
Neither would Lancelot want such a thing.
He inclines his head in acceptance after a moment, reaches down to scoop up his puppy. She wiggles in distress, wanting to be on her feet where she can defend him, but he holds her steady. ]
And what of my friend. Is she invited too?
[ Important. ]