Summary: Lancelot's POV of Arthur and Guinevere's coupling. How he feels and what he thinks.
Pairing: Guinevere/Arthur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,275
Feedback: I appreciate constructive criticism above all else
OUTSIDER
In all his years of service, not once, had Lancelot seen Arthur look at a woman in that way. Not once had his Commander, his friend, taken the time to talk to a woman on that intimate level. Lancelot couldn't even recall a time when Arthur had bedded a whore; he was far too noble for that but now, everything had changed.
The Knights had settled for the night, the rescued prisoners were sat around the fire, their blankets pulled around their frail bodies. They had taken to talking amongst themselves and he couldn't help but notice how Dagonet and Bors sat closealmost as if they were protecting them. Galahad and Gawain had taken the first patrol and had taken it together. This didn't surprise Lancelot. It hadn't surprised any of the Knights. There were hardly any secrets between the group, not after fifteen years.
Tristan, much like Lancelot, had chosen a place away from the fire and the other Knights. He was attending to his bird and muttering in a language that rolled off his tongue, a language Lancelot knew himself and Tristan's words caused Lancelot to roll his eyes. He was very sure the other man loved that bird more than any other person.
Nothing escaped Lancelot so Arthur and Guinevere's absence hadn't gone unnoticed. Dark eyes flickered with an emotion that Lancelot did his best to hide on most days, an emotion known as hurt. He wondered how this woman could stroll in and steal Arthur's heart in a few days when he had spent years trying to obtain that very same heart.
What was so special about her? Lancelot was more than aware of her beauty even after months of imprisonment, he could see her beauty. The high cheekbones, the bright almost defiant eyes and the proud way she held herself. She was no ordinary woman, she was a warrior anyone could see that. Lancelot exhaled a breath as he leaned his head back to look up at the stars.
He had no right to be jealous or possessive, Arthur was his friend and his Commander, there was nothing else and there never would be. Arthur was too lost in his God's way for anything to happen and he was far too scared to explore the possibilities that there could be something more. He had to accept that Guinevere could give Arthur the things that he could not. She was a woman, she could bear children and those children could continue on Arthur's legacy. That was what Arthur wanted after all, he wanted a future. What future could there be between a Sarmatian Knight and a Roman?
Lancelot chuckled to himself as his thoughts turned morbid. No-one would ever imagine he was capable of such thoughts. Not the great Lancelot. Very slowly, he rose to his feet and his two swords were slipped back into their place. He never went anywhere without them, especially during these times. They may have found a camp for the night but it didn't mean that they were safe. Lancelot didn't take chances with safety at night, he knew better than to let down his guard. Every Knight did.
His fellow Knights turned their heads as they watched him walking away from the camp. A few whispers were shared but their attention soon returned to the people around them and to their conversations. Most had enough sense to leave Lancelot alone when he was in one of those moods. The dark eyed Sarmatian was known for his mood swings and most everyone had learnt to see the signs. Lancelot didn't spare a glance over his shoulder as he continued into the night. His mind was desperately trying to escape the thoughts plaguing him but stopped short as he heard whispered words.
Lancelot's head turned and eyes sought the darkness before they came to rest on Arthur and Guinevere. They appeared to be talking and each of them had a smile on their face, their eyes were bright and Arthur actually looked happy. It was rare to see a genuine smile from Arthur, the kind of smile that would light up his face and crinkle up his eyes but somehow, this woman managed it.
He stood for a few moments longer as he watched them but when it got too much to bear, he turned on the heel of his foot and he found his way back to the camp. Suddenly walking seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. He dropped down to the ground and simply rubbed his hands through his hair. If this was how it was going to be then Lancelot could accept it.
It didn't mean he would like it but he would accept it, he would accept it for Arthur. Friendship was more important than petty wants and desires and the man had proven himself time and time again. It would be foolish to lose his friendship over a woman, a woman who had managed to find her way into a special part of Arthur's heart. Lancelot would never know that part, he would always be kept on the fringes.
The troublesome Knight that constantly questioned his Commander and his great belief in something better than this world. Perhaps for Arthurit was possible but Lancelot knew how his own life would end. It would not be beautiful. It would be anything but beautiful and the only thing he could hope for was that he went quickly. His eyes went to Tristan as the two Knights shared a silent understanding, they both knew how their lives would end and both had accepted those ends and had even made peace with them.
Eventually Lancelot's attention returned to the camp and his eyes came to rest on Arthur as he appeared. Bors and Dagonet had pulled him into a discussion of sorts and he seemed to glance to Lancelot for assistance but what he saw in his second's eyes inspired no confidence in Arthur. There was something different about Lancelot, he seemed to look right through him and then after a few moments, he seemed to pull himself back from wherever his mind had gone.
" Leave the poor man alone." Lancelot finally managed after taking time to string his thoughts together. This shout was enough to pull Bors and Dagonet off Arthur and he was finally free to move around the camp. Lancelot turned his attention to Arthur and he can see him making his way towards him. The Knight briefly considered running but rolled his eyes at himselfthat would be childish and pointless. But luckily or unluckily for Lancelot, Guinevere appeared and found her way to the fire to speak with the others and Arthur's attention was instantly drawn to her.
Lancelot could only watch on as Arthur sat beside her and her face tilted towards him. Guinevere's lips slid into a slow smile, a smile she reserved for Arthur and that same smile is mirrored on Arthur's face. A weary breath escaped Lancelot and he simply tugged his cloak around himself. His chin came to rest atop of his knees and his eyes stared into space as he lost himself to his thoughts.
He's always wondered how she managed it, how she managed to steal his heart with just one look.
With a smirk, Lancelot came to the realisation that his answer wouldn't be coming anytime soon. This was the situation and there was nothing he could do to change it but somehow Lancelot knew he would not survive to get the answer he so desperately wanted and needed.
Perhaps it was better that way?