InsaneJournal

Fiction: "The Trial of Lancelot"
As told by Vincent and transcribed by Elena.


Yr Oedd y marchogion Frenin Artor, yn eistedd ar y bwrdd crwn
ac un yn sefyll o flaen i gyd
yn sefell heb ei arfau e, mae cywilydd arno fe
fe ddododd e ar brawf fel bradwr, fel bradychwr addewidion
os yn euog, byddai dau yn darfod.
Mae'r marchogion yn cynghori, ond rhaid i Artor i barnu
Yna meddai Lawslot, ei ben e'n gwargaled
"Yr ydw i'n dodi ar brawf i'n caru Gwenhwyfar, fy nhrosedd i yw caru."

There were the knights of King Arthur sitting at the round table
and one standing before them
standing without his weapons, with shame upon him
he was put on trial as a traitor, a breaker of oaths
if guilty, two would die
the knights give counsel, but Arthur must judge
then said Lancelot, his head unbent
"I am on trial for loving Guinevere, my crime is love."

~~~

How does one express the agony of death at the hands of one you once loved?

It was this pain that one Vincent Valentine was put through on February 10th... a mere four days before St. Valentine's Day. The irony struck him like an arrow shaft through his body. Not through his heart... she had already shot him through the heart, both literally and metaphorically. He could feel the life, the very will to live, slip through his hands, red and warm and moist. Moist like the tears that fell from his crimson eyes, weeping in misery at the blank and honest truth-- She did not choose him.

Days before, he had been whispering soft, sweet nothings into the lady's ear, even as she grew heavy with child. She had lied to him there, made him learn to hate Hojo for no reason. She had told him that the child was his, and he had believed her. She had told him she loved him, and he had believed her.

So when he finally drew courage to speak to Hojo, he thought he was doing what was best for them.

As he lay on the floor, eyes slipping closed, he realized how dead wrong he was.

The pieces began to make sense as the scientist spoke with him. Why she would sleep with him and be gone before the morning. Why she would make exuces for her absenses. Why she protested every attempt he made to propose to her. She had already been married, and the child he cared so much about was not his, but Hojo's. The two men were starting to realize that they'd both been had.

That's when the shot rang out.

Vincent stood silently as he watched Lucretia enter the room, gun in her hand.

Time stood still for a moment as his love flashed before his eyes.

The pain was a deep one, a searing cry of anguish ripping through his chest, tearing him apart, day after day for over thirty years. Not even the demons could compare with it. Three decades of sleep could not lessen it. Time would not heal all wounds. He suffered eternally, and for what?

His only crime had been falling in love with the wrong person.