Disclaimer: Same stuff, different story.
A/N: This is actually the first KA story I ever wrote and just re-discovered on my drive. It may be multi-chaptered and take off on a totally different tangent – still haven't decided so for now I am marking it 'complete'. This is AU – Tristran and Lancelot live after Badon Hill. Oh yes, italics indicate thoughts.
"Either you will tell him or I will."
Tristran's threat was that simple. Yet nothing was simple for Lancelot, not anymore. Tristran's grip on his arm tightened and though he tried not to, Lancelot winced noticeably.
"I will no longer look the other way. It was supposed to be once. Then twice. Now it is countless times and I will no longer pretend that I have seen nothing."
Damn him. Lancelot shook his head, trying to clear the clouds from his mind. He could not bring himself to meet Tristran's steady, unnerving gaze. It was as much from guilt as from knowing that Tristran was right. The scout had caught Lancelot and Guinevere so many times in the forest. And each time Tristran confronted him, Lancelot would swear it was over, that Tristran had witnessed the final indiscretion. But somehow, for some reason, he simply could not let her go. He knew it was wrong. So wrong that he could feel it in every fiber of his being. So wrong that his mind screamed at him every time they were together. So wrong that he could barely be in the same room as Arthur, much less have any sort of conversation. He was certain Arthur suspected something but had yet to ask any questions. For that, Lancelot was grateful. One betrayal is enough…I am not certain I could deal with lying to his face, looking straight into his eyes.
"Lancelot…" Tristran was beginning to speak again, grip tightening on his arm, squeezing the last of his thoughts out.
"I have not said anything to Arthur, but I promise you that I will. Tonight. I am merely trying to give you the opportunity to speak to him, as his most trusted and favorite knight." The bite behind Tristran's assessment of Arthur and Lancelot's closeness and the present situation was not lost on Lancelot. As of late, very little that the scout uttered was lost on Lancelot. He was always keenly searching Tristran's face, his words, his actions for any indication of the scout's mood and if he had yet gone to Arthur with his knowledge.
How did it come to this? How did I let this happen over and over? Am I truly that weak? That impulsive? How can I face Arthur? Should I face Arthur? Should I let Tristran take the news to him? How does Tristran always manage to force his will on people?
Tristran scuffed his boots impatiently on the hard soil in the stable. Bits of hay and crumbs of oats took flight, swirling in the dimming evening sun, much as Lancelot's thoughts seemed to be swirling and swimming.
The scout's sigh was audible and annoyed. "I am done, Lancelot. You have had your chance. I am making a full report to Arthur." Tristran emphasized the word "full" so there would be no question in Lancelot's mind what he intended to convey to Arthur.
"And a full report tonight would differ from a report any other night in what way, exactly?"
The smoothly toned and subtly accented voice of their commander surprised both men. Tristran uttered quiet Sarmatian curses for becoming so focused on getting an answer from Lancelot that he neglected his surroundings. Tristran had told Hawk on the ride back that he planned to speak with Lancelot and whatever would happen, would happen. She had obviously decided she did not want to be a party to whatever occurred, knowing that with Tristran, it usually involved bloodshed if things did not go according to his plan.
How long has he been standing there? Lancelot groaned inwardly and tried to think that Arthur had not heard the entire conversation.
"Again, Tristran, how exactly would a full report tonight differ from your full report any other night?" Arthur's voice was calm, yet demanding. Tristran's stone composure never changed as he looked to Lancelot for a cue on how to proceed. Receiving none from his fellow knight, Tristran drew a deep breath, preparing to give his report to Arthur. As Tristran began to note the Woad movements through the surrounding forest, Arthur nodded appropriately, but his eyes, his focus belonged to Lancelot. Tristran was watching both Arthur and Lancelot, trying to discern any cue as to how he should proceed. Arthur's countenance was impassive and Lancelot's head was sinking so low that in a moment he was going to be able to examine his bellybutton with his eyelashes. In truth, Tristran did not really want to tell Arthur about finding Lancelot and Guinevere in each other's arms repeatedly. Not that he cared at all about the Woad, he didn't. In fact, he rather wished she would go back to whatever part of the forest she came from. He didn't want to be responsible for telling Arthur about Lancelot.
"Is there something you have been neglecting to bring to my attention?" Arthur's tone was still calm, "or would you like me to finish your report?"
Lancelot's head snapped up and both knights looked to Arthur and then to each other. He could not know. He simply could not. Lancelot's mind kept churning, trying to think of what Arthur could be talking about.
Moving closer to the two, Arthur lowered his voice. "You will, of course, tell me if my finish to your report is accurate?" Tristran nodded agreement.
"I know, Lancelot. I know that you and Guinevere are lovers and have been for some time now. "
The stone countenance of the scout changed, ever so briefly, as the stunning revelation reflected in his face. He could only nod before his stony mask slipped back into place.
Keeping his voice low, Arthur continued, "I have known since you first saw each other that this day, this conversation would come. I was, simply put, more useful to her people with an advancing Saxon army than you. That was why she came to my bed that night, why she pledged herself to me. But it was your side she hastened to, Lancelot, when the battle was done. It was your name that stuck in her throat when she, along with us, thought you had died. And I know that even now she creeps from my bed late at night to find fulfillment in yours while she thinks I sleep." Arthur paused on these last words as though just realizing the truth of what he said. Both men shifted uneasily, eyes squeezed shut against the truths they had just heard.
"Understand this," Arthur continued, "I begrudge you nothing, Lancelot." He reached out and placed his hand on Lancelot's shoulder, as if trying to reassure him of their bond. "We have been through too much, trusted too deeply and been as brothers for too long to allow this…woman…to come between us. I cannot give her whatever it is she seeks. Perhaps you can. For your sake, I hope you are able, else you will find yourself in my position: having truths you already know brought to your ears."
Arthur squeezed Lancelot's shoulder to emphasize his words, hoping Lancelot would look up, open his eyes or give him some acknowledgment. When he did not, Arthur simply said quietly, "I begrudge you nothing, Lancelot. Nothing."
Lancelot nodded and whispered, "thank you", more to the ground than to anyone standing there.
Arthur nodded in return and squeezed Lancelot's shoulder once more, releasing him and turning to leave the stable. Catching Tristran's eye, he said softly to his scout, "And I hold nothing against you either, Tristran. You acted as a brother and I could never be angry for that."
Tristran nodded thanks and turned to leave on Arthur's heels, letting Lancelot alone to absorb that Arthur had known all along.