Lancelot swallowed slightly against the slight acrid taste that rose as his chest caught at the strong fear in her eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to place it there. Her death, not that death ever was easy (though he would term his as rather straight-forward), must have been a horrifingly difficult one. One thing Lancelot disliked less than leaving people in the crosshairs were people terrified. Very often than not the two went hand in hand.
He didn't know what he would do if she refused his help. Likely keep his distance while he called for someone to help her. He waited, patiently and quietly, for her decision.
Lancelot's stance eased slightly in relief when she took the blade. He held out his hand, the palm out and pointing to a direction away from the mass of people. "This way, if you would please."
He would start with her first unvoiced question, ever polite. "I am Lancelot." He said by way of introduction. Not asking for her name. She would provide it whens he wanted to. "I have an explanation, whether you will believe it is another matter. I assure you that it is true but you will have to be willing to believe the fantastical." His mouth quirked up slightly in a kindly smile. He wasn't sure how far she was willing to suspend her disbelief.