It had been two years since I left Gwen in the woods and the pain was as strong as ever. I kept telling myself that I did the only thing I could, but I could never really make myself believe it. Still, my days were not entirely dark. I had spent the last two years as a knight in King Hardack's kingdom and for the first time in a long time, I felt as if I had found my purpose. Being a knight in Sharmelion was not like being a famed knight of Camelot. Sharmelion was an unstable land and Hardack was a warlord who had come to power through sheer will and determination. Born to an unnamed noble man and his whore, Hardack did not quibble, however, about things such as blood and lineage.

"Bastards are rarely in a position to cast stones at other people's lineage," he once told me.

Still, he did care about position, but not of the rich, but the poor. While the majority of my missions were patrolling borders and stomping out division, both from without and within, a good deal of my time was spent helping peasants build and plant. No, being a knight of Sharmelion would not bring me fortune and glory, but it had restored my honor.

I wish I could say that the men who I fought with had become like my brothers, but these men were a mesh of thieves, pirates and hired killers with very little honor. Also, the life of a knight is brutal and short and most of my comrades had already met their fate.

"The gods must have something great in store for you," Hardack said to me once, after a battle that he and I alone returned from.

"You are mistaken," I said. "The gods seem determined to keep me as I am, always on the edge, always unable to grasps the things that I truly want."

"So, I take it that it is not your goal to die at my side as a knight of Sharmelion."

I turned red, mortified at my own ingratitude. "I am sorry Sire, please do not mistake my ideal ramblings for displeasure, you have done so much for me and I am grateful for it all."

Hardack looked at me and started laughing. "Easy Lancelot, I have known many men, but none have been as admirable or as grateful as you. It is an honor to serve with you."

I bowed. "The honor is mine."

He laughed again. "You are most certainly the son of peasants for I have never met one nobleman as chivalrous or poetic as you. You," he said, thumping my shoulder, "are a self made man who has taught himself to be better than those he is imitating." He sighed as he looked out the window. "I only wish I could say the same about myself."

"But you can, Sire."

"I have no illusions about who and what I am Lancelot. I am a warlord pretending to be king, a pretence that will only last as long as I can bribe my so-called knights to follow me and my alliances hold. Soon Regalis will have enough power and influence to win every one over to his side and it will be his turn to play king."

I could not argue. Regalis was a warlord on the southern borders who had been gaining power and influence steadily for the past two years; it was only a matter of time before he was at their door and on that day, Hardack would not have a chance. But I would never bow down to such a man, all warlords were ruthless, but Regalis had a reputation for being particularly brutal. I shivered for Sharmelian's people.

"Do not fret my friend. I have maimed, tortured and killed men, guilty and innocent alike, to get where I am today. I have ravished women and burned children alive, and despite my attempts to make amends with the gods these past few years by helping the poor and protecting the weak, this is what I deserve. But you, Lancelot, you deserve a better fate. Perhaps when I have met my maker you can challenge Regalis, be the king that the people deserve."

I shook my head "That is one honor that I do not wish for."

Hardack sighed. "I thought so, but you'd make an excellent king."

I laughed. King Lancelot. I couldn't imagine it, except a king would need a queen and Queen Guinevere had a wonderful ring to it. I would finally be in a position to offer her more than Arthur, that alone would be worth it.

Two weeks later Hardack was dead. He sent me out of Sharmelion on the pretense of delivering a secret message to the Warlord Anthony.

"You are the only one I can trust," he said.

Now, I see that he was only trying to get rid of me. He knew that I would fight to the death to protect him and he did not want that. I tried not to be angry. I took an oath to him. He had no right to make that choice for me. Now, Regilus was on the throne and I was in search of my next grand adventure.

The Lady Elaine has written me consistently for the past two years and with my obligations to Hardack complete I could not turn down her request for help. There was a monster, magical of course, loose in the kingdom and it fell to me and Tristan to slay it. King Mark was less than thrilled to see me and reprimanded Elaine so fiercely for sending for me that I had to force my sword to stay in its sheath.

Afterwards King Mark and his bride, Queen Isolde, presided over a banquet in our honor. It was a tense affair, with Mark glowering at everyone.

"He's jealous," Elaine whispered in my ear. "The mighty king could not slay the monster himself so he had to send his best knight and the man he banished to do the job. He is pathetic."

I said nothing and watched as Tristan kissed the Queen's hand. The King tensed before looking away.

"Mark hates Tristan even more than he hates you," said Elaine leaning into me, "I think he hoped you'd both perish."

"I'm sure he did." I watched as Tristan joined his fellow knights all wearing the symbol of Mark's house. "I thought this kingdom was against having a permanent knighthood."

"Oh Mark was, until Uther Pendragon tried to lure Tristan away to Camelot."

"To Camelot? "

"Yes, Camelot's knighthood was all but wiped out during a dragon attack nearly two years ago, did you not hear about it?"

I had. It was all I could do not to rush back and find Gwen.

"Mark realized that Tristan might take Uther up on his offer for sure," Elaine continued, "after all its every gentlemen's dream to be a knight of Camelot, but something kept him here."

I looked at her. The gleam in her eyes begged a question. I did not get the chance to ask it for Mark called her to his side. Soon they were arguing and she ran out.

I followed.

"Tell Mark I will not come back in." Her back was turned to me.

"Do you really think I came out here at his bidding?"

She turned around. "Mark wanted me to take his hand so that he can announce my betrothal."

"Your what?"

"He wants me to marry Tristan."

I fought back a feeling of jealousy, yes jealousy. I suppose in the past two years I had come to think of Elaine as my own, but she was not mine. Our friendship meant everything to me, it was the only constant I had in my life, but any good friend would be happy to see her settled with such a brave and noble man whose lineage and reputation were worthy of her. Mark could have easily bartered her off to some aging king for political advantage; instead he has given her a chance at happiness. Perhaps he was not as morally bankrupt as I thought.

Her small voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "I will not marry Tristan," she said earnestly.

"Why not? He is a good man. He would make you a worthy husband."

"I suppose he might," she said tartly, "if he were not in love with Queen Isolde."

My face fell.

A knight in love with his Queen?

"Mark is trying to marry him off, so that he is no longer a threat to him. I, along with my wealth and prestige, am a bribe to stay away from Isolde, like that will EVER happen. I'd feel sorry for Mark," she continued, "if I didn't know that nobody deserved to be cuckolded more."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "I doubt it would come to that. No man of honor would dare do such a thing."

"So, he'll just spend his life pining after her then. I want no part of that."

"I am told that ladies find such a never-ending love to be the epitome of romance."

"Then you have been told wrong. Such a love is pure folly Lancelot. There is nothing romantic about it."

"The crime is for a man not to follow his heart, no matter what the consequences may be."

"Isolde will always be Marks', if not in heart and soul, then in body and that is what truly counts, right? Tristan is a fool if he wastes his life pining after her." She put her hands on her hips. "He'd be happier if he learned to love another. Foolish is a man that pines for the wife of his king, it can never end well," she said sadly.

"Perhaps he just needs a reminder of that," I said.

She cocked an eyebrow. "From me?"

"Elaine you are kind, noble, smart and beautiful, a man can do no better."

She smiled. "Do you really believe that?"

"Yes I do. I would hope after all this time you would know how highly I regard you."

She moved closer. "I would hope that same as well."

I smiled. "He does not stand a chance."

Her face fell. "No he does not, nor will he ever."

I gave her a confused look.

"Oh Lancelot," she said, touching my face. "Don't you know?

"Know what?"

She moved even closer. "I love you."

I closed my eyes. I had suspected it for a while, but convinced myself that if I pretended that it was not happening that it would somehow go away. Elaine was an important part of my life and I did not want to lose her over something I could not control.

"Elaine, I care for you very deeply, but I am afraid that you and I can never be."

"Why not?" Her voice was quivering.

"My destiny is elsewhere."

She scoffed. "Elsewhere? In Camelot perhaps with that that servant girl you pine away for? Don't look at me like that. I overheard you talking to Tristan about her once."

I took a deep breath. "I love Gwen. It was a love that buried itself inside my soul before we ever met. "

She let out a loud scream. "She is unworthy of all this devotion! Can't you see she is a black widow, a user and a manipulator? Her Lady Morgana has taught her well, although not even she could see how this would all play out, just how devious her little maid really was."

I stiffened. "You don't know anything about her."

"I know that she has spent the last two years keeping Prince Arthur's bed warm and has not had the decency to even try and hide it. I know that she is the reason that a prince with so much promise and the ability to transform The Summerland maybe brought down in disgrace."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your precious Gwen , your angel, your love is pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"Yes. Pregnant. They say it's Prince Arthur's but you never know with girls like that. "

Gwen was pregnant with Arthur's child?

"They say that he is determined to claim it. That he told Uther that there is no doubt in his mind that the child is his and he will not turn his back on it. That he would abdicate the throne if it meant keeping his mistress and their child. Well as you can imagine Uther went into a rage."

I grimaced. Arthur was a prince, and despite whatever feelings of love he may have for Gwen he could never marry her or claim their child as his own. Uther would wear him down, make him see how impossible it all was. Societal protocol demanded that Gwen be tossed out in disgrace. Uther might even be cruel enough to banish her. She needed me and I had to go to her. This was the time I both desired and dreaded, the time when I would have to pick up the pieces of her broken romance with a prince that could never be hers. I may have failed her at Heignst castle, but I will ride to her rescue now, marry her, and give her a life free from guilt and shame. I will not lie, the thought of raising Arthur's child is distasteful to me. The thought of watching her belly swell up with his child filled me with a jealousy I cannot contain. What if it looked like Arthur and was all blue eyes and blonde hair? Could I deal with a living breathing reminder that Arthur had claimed her first and put his mark on her? Maybe I could convince her to give the child away. It would not need the stigma of being Arthur Pendragon's bastard, especially when he is king.

NO!

I was being selfish. The child was an innocent. Would I deny it the love from the one woman I craved it from more than anything in the world? Yes, I will raise Arthur's child as my own and perhaps the children that I make with Gwen, children with MY brown eyes, MY dark hair and MY blood, will make up for the bitterness of having to take on the first.

"I have to go Elaine."

Elaine's face fell in disbelief. "How can you even think about going to her now?" she shrieked.

"She needs me"

She rolled her eyes. "I do not get it. I really don't. What is it about this servant that has you and the bloody prince of Camelot wrapped around her finger. I mean, I'm sure that she is very good at what she does, but that can be said about all whores!"

My eyes narrowed in disgust. "Goodbye Elaine," I said, bowing curtly, my anger bubbling just below the surface.

"I am sorry," she said desperately, pulling at me. "It's just…" She pulls me into a kiss and my body responds before my mind has a chance to play catch-up. My lips are nibbling at her lips, my hands were pulling her closer, my breath was ragged and hot. She made a soft moan as she rubbed her right leg against me and in that moment I realized what I am doing.

I pulled away.

"I'm sorry Elaine," I said, truly ashamed by my actions. "I should not have done that."

"Yes, you should have," she said, moving towards me and cupping my face with her hands. "It is exactly what you should have done. I love you Lancelot and I know that if you give me a chance, you can love me."

I looked away. "I have to go," I said, removing her hands. I turned to leave and she wrapped her hands around my waist.

"Stay with me…live with me…love me," she pleaded, pressing herself harder against my back.

I touched her hands. "I cannot," I whispered, removing her hands. "I wish I could."

And I did.

I longed to be free of this love for Gwen, to open myself up to another; gods know only an idiot would turn down a woman like Elaine to run after another who was pregnant by another man. My mind kept telling me to turn around, to press Elaine against me, and take what she was offering.

You can be happy with Elaine, her heart is yours and yours alone, just turn around.

But it would be useless, Gwen owned my heart and soul and I knew that she always would. I had to go to her, no matter what the consequences.

"Please," she whispered.

I did not have to look at her to know that tears were falling down her beautiful face. Her sobs followed me as a galloped away towards Gwen.

Next up: Lancelot is in for a big surprise when he finds Gwen and Arthur and Lancelot FINALLY go at it.