This is a Lancelot romance. Its half OC, half movie character… read the summary to understand how that is possible. It's got some Guinevere angst thrown in for good effect. Basically just an excuse to write about an Ioan Gruffudd character.
Rated: R… Hard R for later chapters.
Disclaimer: Don't own a bloody thing.
I know that in the movie, it seemed that Guinevere had little interest in Lancelot, but in the real legends they were a lot cozier than the movie depicted. So I am introducing the Guinevere element to the story. Hopefully you'll all enjoy. I promise some larger Arthur scenes in the next chapter! PROMISE!!!
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The sun's rays blinded him for a moment when he first woke. The shutters had been opened, sun pouring in through the open window, making everything shimmer like gold. He exhaled deeply as he stretched his long arms up over his head. He hadn't slept so well in over a month. He fell back against his pillow, and let his head roll to the side to look at Finn, who was sleeping peacefully beside him.
He could not remember the last time a woman had slept in his bed, fully clothed and still asleep the next morning. Her eyes were closed, her arms wrapped around her pillow, the blanket kicked down the bed so that it pooled at the edge.
He wondered when he'd become such a pessimist who used woman as he saw fit and then disposed of them afterward.
"Good morning." He looked down and his eyes met Finn's as she stretched across the bed. His eyes strayed to her creamy bare thigh, peeking out from under the short tunic. He quickly looked away, but this time his eyes lingered on her shoulder, where the tunic had been rearranged so that it was naked for his eyes alone to see.
When had he become so perverse? Even one of his oldest friends was not safe from him and his sexual appetite.
"You're quiet this morning." She said, watching him almost as inquiry. He opened his mouth to answer, when a soft knocking sounded from the doorway. His head snapped forward, and he hesitated, looking back to Finn. But she'd already disappeared from the bed. He searched for a fraction of a second to see where she was hiding, before the knock sounded again. He could not ignore it.
"Enter." He said as he pushed back the blanket and stood. The veil was pulled back, and the person he'd least expected to be behind it stepped through.
Guinevere faltered when she saw Lancelot standing in the middle of his room, wearing nothing but a pair of weathered trousers and a rather shocked expression on his face. Her eyes skimmed down his body, and she felt her face immediately flush before she turned.
Lancelot merely stared after she'd turned away. She was wearing a long wine colored gown; her hair was up and away from her face, a crown of daisies weaving through it. She looked beautiful, as she always did, and the sun light merely magnified it.
She looked over her shoulder, both pairs of eyes meeting before she smiled and looked away again.
"Have you nothing to cover yourself with?" she asked jokingly. It was then Lancelot remembered how naked he was, and he hurriedly reached for the first thing he could find.
This time when Guinevere turned, his upper body was clothed, and he was staring at her with something she could not identify. Something that made her skin catch fire. She watched him for a moment, before clearing her voice and breaking eye contact.
"I came to inform you that Arthur requests your presence at the table soon."
"Oh. Of course." He said, rather rushed. They exchanged looks once again before she nodded, feeling rather embarrassed by the mood of the room.
"I shall see you there." She said with a smile.
"Yes." He answered. The air was tense, and she gave one last look before turning and sweeping through the door, the tail of her skirt chasing after her. He let out a long breath as he dragged a hand through his hair, before he fell across the bed.
"So." He practically jumped out of his skin at the small voice. He'd forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room. He crawled across the bed and looked over the side that was only a few feet from the wall. Finn was leaning against the side of the bed, biting her lip, her eyes downcast. "Is she your…" her voice was hesitant and he felt a smile break across his face at her insecurity. "Your lover." She finally ground out, before looking up at him.
He let out a long sigh and folded his hands at the edge of the bed, placing his chin down on top of them. "No." he answered wistfully. "She is my captain's…my friend's."
"You wish her to be yours?" she'd gone back to looking at the wall, and Lancelot frowned. Why was she so opposed to him being attracted to a woman?
"Perhaps." He answered. Suddenly Finn's demeanor changed drastically.
"Good." She said harshly, standing up from the ground and turning on him like a monster unleashed. "I hope you both live the very best. And you can wish my future husband and I the same."
"What husband?" he said mockingly. He knew he shouldn't bait her, but she was being rather childish. "You have none."
"I do! I lied!" she stormed around the bed, toward her boots. She took a seat and began pulling them on.
"Is that so?" he said turning around and sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. "His name?"
"Alden." As soon as she'd said his name, she felt Lancelot's heated gaze upon hers. But she did not stop to give him time to retaliate. "You remember? He was taken same as you, to become a soldier for Rome, although as I recall, oh yes, HE CAME BACK!" she spat, as she shoved the next boot on.
"And you are to be married to him?" He asked advancing toward Finn. He'd always hated Alden, since they were children. He was pig headed, competitive and he'd never treated anyone with any respect. Not even Finn.
"I am." She said standing. "He asked for my hand shortly before he left on a merchant trip. He is due to stop her in another month and then we will be reunited."
"I do not believe you!" he practically roared. Then suddenly she paused, looking him up and down.
"Give me that!" she yelled grabbing the edge of her shawl and pulling it off of his shoulders. She pushed past him, to the table, though before she'd gotten three steps away, Lancelot had grabbed her arm and was turning her to face him.
"Why?" he demanded. "Why did you never tell me you were to be wed, or even promised to anyone?"
"Because!" she yelled back, already sick of his handsome face and strong character. "I had never given up hope in you!"
There was a ringing silence that filled the room after she'd said this. She was breathing hard, pent up rage breathing from every pore, her deepest, darkest secret revealed to the one person she never wished to find out. As the reality of what she'd said occurred to her, she broke away from him, blinking rapidly, not believing what had just happened.
"You…" he was struck dumb by her confession. She licked her lips, looked into his eyes and shook her head, smiling bitterly.
"Forget. Forget it all. I'm stupid. I'm foolish and… and stupid. I had fallen in love with you, without knowing you. It was fool-hardy of me. I-I must go see Arthur and then … leave." She cast one more longing look in his direction before turning and sprinting out of the room.
Lancelot took off shortly after her, running after her. "FINN!" he called, though she would not stop. "FINN, STOP!" he finally caught up with her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back to him. She struggled half-heartedly, too upset with herself to really try to get away.
"Leave me be." She said though it sounded more like a sob. He chuckled lightly, his breath on her neck, making her hair stand on end.
"We must stop meeting this way." He said as he turned her to face him, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. "You cannot leave little one. You must stay here for your safety."
"I can't." she breathed, scolding herself for seeming so weak. "I cannot stay here while you are here. While she…" she bit her lip as she recounted the way he'd talked to her, looked at her. She finally looked up into his gaze. "We weren't meant to be, Lancelot. I now know that." He gave a small shake of the head.
"Finn-"
"You will always see me as a little girl, someone who needs protection…even from yourself." She brought a soft hand up to the side of his face and let it trail down his jaw, his neck, his chest. He placed his hand over hers, on his heart, neither confirming nor denying her statement.
"Where will you go?" he argued, not knowing what else to say. "There is no other place for you to go…you cannot go back the way you came, I will not let you…"
"I will meet my Alden at the gates of Wexford outpost." He winced at the title … my Alden. "You will go back to the life you've always led, as a killer, a lover, as a knight." She smiled sadly. "I had always hoped to be your refuge from that life. Now I see, that can never be."
He looked down at her face, not ready to give up, not ready to surrender what small, strange magnificent relationship they may have. He'd known her all of a day, and he did not want it to end yet. He opened his mouth to speak-
"I am telling you Bors! It is all about the axe! Little William must learn to control such a weapon if he wishes to succeed in battle!" Gawain argued, as the three knights rounded the corner, into the hallway.
Finn took a step backward, retracting her hand from his, returning her gaze to the floor. He wanted to step right back in front of her but suddenly a large hand clapped him on the back.
"Lancelot. Put a shirt on for god's sake, or you'll scare the children." Bors barked, the other two knight snickering as they passed him. But Galahad halted in front of Finn.
"M'lady, is there anything you be needing, that'd bring you all the way into the knight's quarters?" he asked, and Lancelot felt heat rush through his veins when he saw the way Galahad's blue eyes lingered on the curve of her neck.
"I was hoping I could speak with King Arthur." She said smiling at Galahad, acting as though she did not know Lancelot, which furthered the jealousy that coursed through his veins.
"Perhaps we should escort the young lady." Gawain said, before Galahad offered her his arm. She smiled.
"Thank you kind knights." She said taking the offered arm. The four walked off down the hall, leaving Lancelot feeling ice cold despite his boiling feelings of envy.
Rated: R… Hard R for later chapters.
Disclaimer: Don't own a bloody thing.
I know that in the movie, it seemed that Guinevere had little interest in Lancelot, but in the real legends they were a lot cozier than the movie depicted. So I am introducing the Guinevere element to the story. Hopefully you'll all enjoy. I promise some larger Arthur scenes in the next chapter! PROMISE!!!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun's rays blinded him for a moment when he first woke. The shutters had been opened, sun pouring in through the open window, making everything shimmer like gold. He exhaled deeply as he stretched his long arms up over his head. He hadn't slept so well in over a month. He fell back against his pillow, and let his head roll to the side to look at Finn, who was sleeping peacefully beside him.
He could not remember the last time a woman had slept in his bed, fully clothed and still asleep the next morning. Her eyes were closed, her arms wrapped around her pillow, the blanket kicked down the bed so that it pooled at the edge.
He wondered when he'd become such a pessimist who used woman as he saw fit and then disposed of them afterward.
"Good morning." He looked down and his eyes met Finn's as she stretched across the bed. His eyes strayed to her creamy bare thigh, peeking out from under the short tunic. He quickly looked away, but this time his eyes lingered on her shoulder, where the tunic had been rearranged so that it was naked for his eyes alone to see.
When had he become so perverse? Even one of his oldest friends was not safe from him and his sexual appetite.
"You're quiet this morning." She said, watching him almost as inquiry. He opened his mouth to answer, when a soft knocking sounded from the doorway. His head snapped forward, and he hesitated, looking back to Finn. But she'd already disappeared from the bed. He searched for a fraction of a second to see where she was hiding, before the knock sounded again. He could not ignore it.
"Enter." He said as he pushed back the blanket and stood. The veil was pulled back, and the person he'd least expected to be behind it stepped through.
Guinevere faltered when she saw Lancelot standing in the middle of his room, wearing nothing but a pair of weathered trousers and a rather shocked expression on his face. Her eyes skimmed down his body, and she felt her face immediately flush before she turned.
Lancelot merely stared after she'd turned away. She was wearing a long wine colored gown; her hair was up and away from her face, a crown of daisies weaving through it. She looked beautiful, as she always did, and the sun light merely magnified it.
She looked over her shoulder, both pairs of eyes meeting before she smiled and looked away again.
"Have you nothing to cover yourself with?" she asked jokingly. It was then Lancelot remembered how naked he was, and he hurriedly reached for the first thing he could find.
This time when Guinevere turned, his upper body was clothed, and he was staring at her with something she could not identify. Something that made her skin catch fire. She watched him for a moment, before clearing her voice and breaking eye contact.
"I came to inform you that Arthur requests your presence at the table soon."
"Oh. Of course." He said, rather rushed. They exchanged looks once again before she nodded, feeling rather embarrassed by the mood of the room.
"I shall see you there." She said with a smile.
"Yes." He answered. The air was tense, and she gave one last look before turning and sweeping through the door, the tail of her skirt chasing after her. He let out a long breath as he dragged a hand through his hair, before he fell across the bed.
"So." He practically jumped out of his skin at the small voice. He'd forgotten that he wasn't alone in the room. He crawled across the bed and looked over the side that was only a few feet from the wall. Finn was leaning against the side of the bed, biting her lip, her eyes downcast. "Is she your…" her voice was hesitant and he felt a smile break across his face at her insecurity. "Your lover." She finally ground out, before looking up at him.
He let out a long sigh and folded his hands at the edge of the bed, placing his chin down on top of them. "No." he answered wistfully. "She is my captain's…my friend's."
"You wish her to be yours?" she'd gone back to looking at the wall, and Lancelot frowned. Why was she so opposed to him being attracted to a woman?
"Perhaps." He answered. Suddenly Finn's demeanor changed drastically.
"Good." She said harshly, standing up from the ground and turning on him like a monster unleashed. "I hope you both live the very best. And you can wish my future husband and I the same."
"What husband?" he said mockingly. He knew he shouldn't bait her, but she was being rather childish. "You have none."
"I do! I lied!" she stormed around the bed, toward her boots. She took a seat and began pulling them on.
"Is that so?" he said turning around and sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. "His name?"
"Alden." As soon as she'd said his name, she felt Lancelot's heated gaze upon hers. But she did not stop to give him time to retaliate. "You remember? He was taken same as you, to become a soldier for Rome, although as I recall, oh yes, HE CAME BACK!" she spat, as she shoved the next boot on.
"And you are to be married to him?" He asked advancing toward Finn. He'd always hated Alden, since they were children. He was pig headed, competitive and he'd never treated anyone with any respect. Not even Finn.
"I am." She said standing. "He asked for my hand shortly before he left on a merchant trip. He is due to stop her in another month and then we will be reunited."
"I do not believe you!" he practically roared. Then suddenly she paused, looking him up and down.
"Give me that!" she yelled grabbing the edge of her shawl and pulling it off of his shoulders. She pushed past him, to the table, though before she'd gotten three steps away, Lancelot had grabbed her arm and was turning her to face him.
"Why?" he demanded. "Why did you never tell me you were to be wed, or even promised to anyone?"
"Because!" she yelled back, already sick of his handsome face and strong character. "I had never given up hope in you!"
There was a ringing silence that filled the room after she'd said this. She was breathing hard, pent up rage breathing from every pore, her deepest, darkest secret revealed to the one person she never wished to find out. As the reality of what she'd said occurred to her, she broke away from him, blinking rapidly, not believing what had just happened.
"You…" he was struck dumb by her confession. She licked her lips, looked into his eyes and shook her head, smiling bitterly.
"Forget. Forget it all. I'm stupid. I'm foolish and… and stupid. I had fallen in love with you, without knowing you. It was fool-hardy of me. I-I must go see Arthur and then … leave." She cast one more longing look in his direction before turning and sprinting out of the room.
Lancelot took off shortly after her, running after her. "FINN!" he called, though she would not stop. "FINN, STOP!" he finally caught up with her, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back to him. She struggled half-heartedly, too upset with herself to really try to get away.
"Leave me be." She said though it sounded more like a sob. He chuckled lightly, his breath on her neck, making her hair stand on end.
"We must stop meeting this way." He said as he turned her to face him, one hand coming up to cup her cheek. "You cannot leave little one. You must stay here for your safety."
"I can't." she breathed, scolding herself for seeming so weak. "I cannot stay here while you are here. While she…" she bit her lip as she recounted the way he'd talked to her, looked at her. She finally looked up into his gaze. "We weren't meant to be, Lancelot. I now know that." He gave a small shake of the head.
"Finn-"
"You will always see me as a little girl, someone who needs protection…even from yourself." She brought a soft hand up to the side of his face and let it trail down his jaw, his neck, his chest. He placed his hand over hers, on his heart, neither confirming nor denying her statement.
"Where will you go?" he argued, not knowing what else to say. "There is no other place for you to go…you cannot go back the way you came, I will not let you…"
"I will meet my Alden at the gates of Wexford outpost." He winced at the title … my Alden. "You will go back to the life you've always led, as a killer, a lover, as a knight." She smiled sadly. "I had always hoped to be your refuge from that life. Now I see, that can never be."
He looked down at her face, not ready to give up, not ready to surrender what small, strange magnificent relationship they may have. He'd known her all of a day, and he did not want it to end yet. He opened his mouth to speak-
"I am telling you Bors! It is all about the axe! Little William must learn to control such a weapon if he wishes to succeed in battle!" Gawain argued, as the three knights rounded the corner, into the hallway.
Finn took a step backward, retracting her hand from his, returning her gaze to the floor. He wanted to step right back in front of her but suddenly a large hand clapped him on the back.
"Lancelot. Put a shirt on for god's sake, or you'll scare the children." Bors barked, the other two knight snickering as they passed him. But Galahad halted in front of Finn.
"M'lady, is there anything you be needing, that'd bring you all the way into the knight's quarters?" he asked, and Lancelot felt heat rush through his veins when he saw the way Galahad's blue eyes lingered on the curve of her neck.
"I was hoping I could speak with King Arthur." She said smiling at Galahad, acting as though she did not know Lancelot, which furthered the jealousy that coursed through his veins.
"Perhaps we should escort the young lady." Gawain said, before Galahad offered her his arm. She smiled.
"Thank you kind knights." She said taking the offered arm. The four walked off down the hall, leaving Lancelot feeling ice cold despite his boiling feelings of envy.