Chapter 2

The new arrangement between the royal couple did not significantly change the rhythm of Arthur's day to day life. He was, after all, a very busy man. On the evenings when Gwen was away with Lancelot he caught up with business of state, and on the mornings when she returned he would forget about his kingdom altogether and lavish her with attention.

One of his initial fears, that Gwen would spend so much time on her other lover that there would be none left for him, was swiftly proven wrong. Again and again she returned energised by her time away and eager to show Arthur just how loved he was. Their time together grew more purposeful and charged, igniting a spark that reminded Arthur of their early days of courting.

One unexpected benefit of Gwen's nights away was it gave Arthur more opportunities to spend time with Merlin. Since the legalisation of magic, neither he nor Arthur had much opportunity to socialise outside of their duties, and the king had to confess he missed the days of having Merlin as his manservant. He hadn't realised what a large part Merlin played in his life until suddenly he was absent from it.

They fell into an easy routine. On the evenings Gwen spent with Lancelot Arthur would visit Merlin, or vice versa, under the pretence of work. One or the other of them would inevitably suggest splitting a bottle of wine and the conversation soon turned to other topics.

It was on one such occasion that Merlin mentioned, delicately, "Gwen seems very happy these days. Lancelot too."

Arthur's initial reaction was a surge of panic. Gwen had assured him that she and Lancelot were discreet, but still he feared rumours that he was a cuckold king - too weak to keep his own wife satisfied, let alone to run a kingdom.

Perhaps sensing Arthur's unease, Merlin went on hastily, "I just wanted to check if you'd... noticed?"

"If I'd..?" Arthur trailed off, realising what it was that Merlin was really asking.

Do you know about this? Are you comfortable with what's going on? Do you need to talk about it?

He relaxed back into his seat. "I had noticed. More than noticed, in fact."

"Which is to say..?"

"I trust Guinevere. That's really all anyone needs to know."

Merlin, evidently relieved, changed the subject.

One afternoon Arthur happened upon Lancelot alone in the armoury. He was sharpening his sword, but quickly set it aside when Arthur entered and sprang to attention.

"Your Majesty."

Arthur waved him down again. "Please, there's no need for such formality."

"As you say, Sire."

Arthur had noticed a certain awkwardness which had sprung up between them. The subtle stiffness in Lancelot's posture and his overly polite tone felt out of place among the camaraderie of the Round Table, and he was eager to put the knight's mind at rest.

"I'm glad to find you here. I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"For the care you've shown Guinevere."

Lancelot tensed. "Sire, if this arrangement has caused you any discomfort... if I've overstepped in any way..."

"I have always called you the most honourable of all my knights, Lancelot. That hasn't changed. Yet I get the impression you think otherwise?"

Lancelot ducked his head. "I'm having to relearn what my idea of 'honour' truly is. I hope you know that when I returned I had no intention of pursuing anything with Gwen. I could see how happy you made her. I never wanted to interfere with that."

"You haven't." Calm contentment settled over Arthur as he said this aloud. It was completely true. His relationship with Gwen was, if anything, stronger than ever. "So please Lancelot, can I ask you a favour?"

"Yes, sire. Anything."

Arthur felt lighter than he had done in months. He fancied Lancelot might feel the same.

"Stop calling me sire?"

He laid with Guinevere that night and felt at peace. "It's working, isn't it?"

"It is." Her head was on his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. "Is there anything you've struggled with?"

His instinct was to reassure, but he forced himself to stop and really consider the question. "It's an adjustment to what I pictured for us, but not an unwelcome one. I miss you when you're away, of course. What about you?"

"Sometimes I feel guilty," she confessed. "When I'm with Lancelot, I worry how you're feeling. Then I feel guiltier still, because I'm not fully present with him."

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Before we started this we spent occasional time apart. I missed you then too, you know. It doesn't really matter who you're with or what you're doing - that's just a fact of caring for someone."

"I also wondered..."

"Yes?"

"Would you want to pursue something of your own?"

He was stunned. The thought had, truly, never crossed his mind.

Gwen went on, "I just don't want you to feel this arrangement only benefits me. I wanted you to know I'd be open to it, if it was something you wanted."

"I've never really considered it."

When, after all, had he had the chance? All his life he had been raised for monogamy. Guinevere was the first, the only woman he had lain with. He had barely even kissed anyone else. The very idea felt absurd.

She resumed her earlier tracing of his chest. "It's just something to think about."

He did think about it, long after she had fallen asleep. He had been taught that loyalty and devotion were the cornerstones of his role as king and husband. Deviating from that seemed almost sacrilegious. But then he considered Lancelot, earlier that day.

I'm having to relearn what my idea of 'honour' truly is.

It felt strange to depart from what he had imagined marriage to be. Yet he couldn't deny it felt exciting too. He remembered many evenings after a joust or a hunt when his knights would head off for a raucous evening in Camelot's taverns, after which they would return with tales of the women and the wine. He himself had never been allowed to partake in such evenings. As prince he did not want to gain a reputation as a womaniser, lest word were to spread and discourage potential matches from other kingdoms - or so was Uther's belief, anyway. Then, by the time he took the throne, he had already fallen head over heels in love with Gwen.

He had always longed to be a part of those trips, always felt as though he were missing some fundamental part of what it meant to become a man. He remembered pitying looks when he asked for clarification on what certain words meant, even recalled one snide whisper of "virgin" followed by raucous laughter. He stopped asking his questions after that.

Perhaps now, so many years later, he had a chance to satisfy his curiousity.

"So, this trip... Don't suppose it's got anything to do with why Lancelot's been so happy over the last few months?"

Not long after his conversation with Gwen, Arthur had approached Gwaine quietly and asked if he knew anywhere for good drinks and good company. Ideally somewhere he wouldn't be recognised as the King of Camelot. Gwaine had been happy to oblige - provided, of course, that he could tag along.

Arthur was hesitant to accept the condition at first, but now he was glad of the company. They had only just bought their first drink and already several women had brushed past just a touch closer than might be considered proper, a few going so far as to strike up a conversation with Arthur and gaze pointedly into his eyes. He felt thoroughly out of his depth.

"Guinevere and I are trying something new."

Gwaine raised his tankard in a mock-salute. "Never knew you had it in you! You're looking to sow your wild oats tonight then?"

"Perhaps."

Arthur couldn't deny it was nice to have so many beautiful women looking at him with such overt attraction. Still, he found very little in him which responded to it. They were strangers, after all. What was there to like? To love?

"This isn't really what I expected," Arthur admitted to Gwaine after a few more unfulfilling conversations and not-so-subtle strokes of his arm. "I think I had best leave you to your fun."

"No, now hang on!" Gwaine snagged his sleeve and dragged him to an empty table, grabbing a pint of ale from a passing barmaid and shoving it in his direction. "Drink that and tell me - what were you expecting from tonight?"

Arthur sipped his drink and pondered. He remembered the knights in his youth who had boasted so boldly of their carnal conquests. "Other men seem to find it so easy to fall in love - or at least in lust. That was never an option for me. I couldn't lose my head or my heart. Both were too valuable to Camelot."

"But you fell in love with Gwen, didn't you? That didn't have anything to do with Camelot."

"No, but... Oh, I don't know." Arthur huffed in frustration. "How do you do it, Gwaine? You seem to have a new romantic prospect every time we speak."

Gwaine barked a laugh. "Well you're not wrong. I feel like I fall in love with a new person every day."

"That can't be true."

"And why not? I fall for a giggle, or a particular sense of poise, or the way a person helps someone they care about. It might not be love how you think about it, but it's a perfectly pleasant way of moving through the world. "

"Doesn't it bother you that it never lasts?"

"Hardly! I have my own life and they have theirs. What should it matter to either of us that we go on living them?" Gwaine's eyes darted past Arthur to the bar. "Goodness me. I believe I may have fallen again."

"Of course you have," Arthur muttered and turned to look. He stopped short when he saw the barkeep - young, muscled, decidedly male - who had caught Gwaine's fancy.

Gwaine spotted his gobsmacked reaction. "You really didn't know?"

"I never really- I didn't think-"

Gwaine took pity on his flustered king and leant forward to clap him bracingly on the shoulder. "Have no fear princess, I've no intention of making advances upon you. What a disaster that would be! Now, if you don't mind?"

Gwaine sidled from their table and swept up to the barkeep. Arthur couldn't help but stare at how they leant towards one another, the way Gwaine's hand lingered just a moment too long on the other man's arm.

He finished his drink, watching the two men flirt across the room, and thought again of the knights from his youth. Odd comments and asides began to make sense, observations and jokes which a younger Arthur had pretended to understand. Some of those knights, he now realised, must have enjoyed the company of men as well.

He had hoped this trip might enlighten him and perhaps it had. But mostly it had just made him feel foolish. What else didn't he understand about the world? What else had he been too naive to see?