He smiles at her, softly, light kindling in his eyes, softening the sadness. He feels drawn back to himself, to ground.

Lancelot knows that he has always been someone who seeks a lodestar; it's not that he is a follower who needs to be led, but that he looks to set his course by those he loves. He sorely misses his loves back in Britain, at court, and perhaps today it has just overwhelmed him. But what he has with Susan is unlike any other relationship he's had before, and he is so very glad of her.

"I love thee. Thou'rt like no one else I know. It is my great joy to be thy dearest friend."