Lancelot and the Wolf

by Sarah Luddington

  Darkness sat over my head, surprising me and a fire danced in my field of vision. A flask smelling of water pressed against my lips. I drank, gratefully.

  Else knelt beside me on the other side, “They have realised they’ve pushed him too far. They were killing him, with any luck his stubborn attitude has made them back off. He might have won this round.”

  I didn’t feel like I’d won anything. I hurt everywhere, my brain considered me a traitor, convinced I’d been drinking heavily for days and this was the world’s worst hangover.

  “How did I win?” I asked.

  “Just by not giving in, no matter how much pressure they put you under,” Else said. She stroked my face. Her touch hurt and made me flinch. She gasped softly, withdrawing.

  I curled into Arthur’s body and wrapped my arms around his waist, “Make the pain stop,” I said quietly.

  “You are still in pain?” he asked.

  “Not from the spell, this is a spiritual hangover,” Else said from some distance away.

  “What do I do?” Arthur asked.

  “We leave the two of you alone for a while,” Else said. I heard her speak to Geraint and they left us.

  Arthur murmured over me until I felt able to move from his lap. It took a long time. I finally sat up, but stayed inside the circle of his arms.

  “I feel fucking terrible,” I complained bitterly. “If it takes this much effort to fight their damn spells I’m not going to manage it again.”

  Arthur tightened his arms around me and kissed my neck, “I am grateful to you. Bedding Eleanor de Clare would be a complication too far for all of us.”

  I snorted, “It would make for an interesting conversation when it came to working out who was the father of any off spring.”

  “I often wondered if that was why Guinevere wouldn’t let you go,” Arthur said slowly.

  He must have so many questions about that time in our lives. He had never let me talk to him and I didn’t think Guinevere would have told him the truth.

  “I made certain she never carried my child, Arthur,” I said.

  He didn’t speak for a long time and I just sat in the circle of his arms, passive, waiting for him to make the next move.

  I felt him shift away from me, but only to lie back on the ground. I turned and looked at him, “You can ask me anything.”

  He sighed, “A part of me wants to know. A part of me thinks it’s over so what’s the point. The important thing is us.”

  “Us?” I asked.

  Arthur grunted, “So, you don’t think this is any more than an aberration in our lives.”

  I frowned, realising we were having a different conversation to the one I planned. I didn’t really have the wherewithal for this, “I didn’t say that. I don’t think our relationship can be easily defined.”

  Arthur stared at the stars, “No, I suppose it can’t.”

  I had managed to avoid an argument. Get me, managing my relationship. Arthur suddenly sat up, “You need sleep, Lancelot.” He drew himself out of my space, rose and walked to our kit. He grabbed his own bedroll and mine. He lay his own down on one side of the fire and mine near it, while I still sat watching.

  There seemed to be something going on here I’d missed entirely. Else would have left us alone for a reason. I stood, the world wriggled slightly, I stepped forward, not really seeing clearly.

  “Whoa, Lancelot,” Arthur cried out and I felt his hands on my chest. “Sit, you almost ended up in the fire.”

  Not quite my intention but I had him here, “I needed to stop you.”

  “Stop me?” Arthur said as my vision cleared and my head ceased pounding.

  “I’ve hurt you.” I took a deep breath. I felt him still. One of us had to say it and Arthur couldn’t, “I don’t just love you, I am in love with you. I love Else, I know I do, but what we have,” I touched his chest, “has been a part of me for years. I don’t know how to cope with what I feel. When we return to Camelot, I know I am going to lose you again. You can’t be with me there and it hurts. Our love is not what should happen between two men, or for a king.” My hand found his throat and jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble.

  “I cannot promise you anything,” Arthur said sadly.

  “You don’t have too. Just tell me how you feel.”

  “Do I really need too? I have loved you since we were boys. I have burned with desire for you. I have craved your body. I don’t think you realise how much I have needed you or for how long. Ordering your punishment because of Guinevere broke my heart. Watching it almost broke my mind. I know we are both married but I want you with me, selfish spoiled bastard that I am.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him Else and I weren’t actually married but this wasn’t the time. “I will answer any question you have about Guinevere, or Else. And I swear to you, Arthur, unless I have to, I will not leave your side. We will be together the only way we can be, as brothers in arms.”

  “I want so much more,” Arthur said, moving into me. We kissed, he groaned, I pushed him back and lowered him to the ground. I wanted to feel his skin on mine, but we really didn’t have time. I wanted to spend hours making him ready to accept my body, so we could finally join together. We had never managed to be brave enough to try it but I now felt ready. I wanted him, all of him.

  His body felt hard and unyielding under me, our hips ground together, we both groaned, Arthur laughed, “This is insane. I have waited so long for you, Lancelot and now we are going to do this in a cold damp wood.”

  I grinned, while leaning on my elbows either side of his shoulders. I traced his lips with my finger and he drew it into his mouth. It made me gasp. My bloody imagination on overtime. “Then you want to wait?”

  “Not particularly, but I think we should,” Arthur said as he rubbed his hips against mine. He felt so hard.

  “You can order me to do anything,” I said mischievously.

  “Don’t bloody tempt me, Lancelot. Having you chained up in my dungeon gave me some very bad thoughts,” his hands strayed to my backside and held me tight against him.

  “If you clean the damned thing out, I’ll let you do it again,” I told him.

  “Just so long as you never ask me to flog you,” he said, as his expression darkened.

  I frowned and pulled back, “Don’t worry, I won’t,” the moment died on that one thought. I wondered if what we shared was too ephemeral to survive. I rolled off him and returned to my bedroll. Else appeared as if by magic and said Geraint offered to take first watch. I curled up, feeling oddly bereft and very confused, but finding sleep eventually.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  I still didn’t feel like myself but the journey over the river Severn and down toward Geraint’s homelands happened swiftly enough. I found I needed Else less, which put a distance between us. She watched me and I watched her but my affection for Arthur consumed me. I think if we’d had the time and place to deal with our feelings, like a comfortable warm bed for about a week, it wouldn’t have controlled so much of me. As it was, Arthur and I couldn’t be separated. We rode together, fought constantly and vanished from sight at every opportunity. Geraint watched this in a state of mild amusement. He once spoke to me about how it must hurt Else, so I spoke to her. She just said all things would happen in the right way if we let them. I didn’t understand but she seemed to be withdrawing from all of us. I would say she’d begun to look different but I couldn’t put my finger on it and the fey influence worried me.

  When we crested the rise, which looked down onto the wide flat valley of Avalon, the weak sunlight sat overhead. The cold wind tore into our bodies and the damp leached into everything. We looked over the barren scenery, winter now held the land firmly in its grasp. Toward our right, we saw the sloping shape of the odd hump, which drew the eye, rising like an unadorned nipple within the marshes of Wessex. It never failed to make me shiver. I didn’t trust Arthur’s faith in these people, but he needed them, so we would go to them. The Sisters of Ava
lon.

  The range of hills descended sharply into the valley and we needed to make camp again before reaching the small town nestling under the hill.

  “What if they don’t tell us where Merlin is?” Geraint asked for the hundredth time. If I didn’t trust these Sisters, he actively disliked them. His own lands were shrouded with as much myth as this place but he said he understood his homeland. This place gave him the creeps.

  Arthur said, straightening up from his saddle, “Then, as I have mentioned before, we ask them who can help.”

  “And what will they want from us in return?” Geraint asked even more grumpily.

  “I don’t know yet, but we have things in the packs which will smooth the way,” Arthur told him.

  “You should get the bloody church down here to tame this land,” Geraint said.

  “Merlin asked me not to, so I haven’t. There are certain places which aren’t ready and this is one of them. Their power is old, it is weakening but if I kill it there will be repercussions, far better to let it die a natural death,” Arthur explained.

  We rode close together and I felt the heat of his leg through my own as our horses pressed against each other. Willow and Ash had resigned themselves to having to live in each other’s company so a peace developed between them.

  Geraint growled but held his tongue. I looked at Else. She stared down into the valley with a hunger in her brown eyes I didn’t understand.

  I touched her arm, “You alright?”

  She jumped, unaware of my presence, “Sorry, yes, fine, let’s go shall we.” She nudged Mercury forward and began the long road down the hill toward the marshes.

  Geraint moved off after her. I frowned and said, “There is something wrong with, Else.”

  “She seems different, I’ll grant you that,” Arthur said.

  “She won’t talk to me.”

  “I’m not surprised, you spend every waking moment with me,” he said. “Maybe we both need to talk to her. She is your wife, this can’t be easy, despite the fact that you can’t be with her.”

  I felt a pang of guilt over continuing the lie. I should tell Arthur the truth about my relationship with Else. As we walked down after the others, I began to explain.

  “So, you aren’t married?” Arthur asked to confirm my confession. I’d expected him to be furious with me for lying for so long.

  “No,” I said. “I still don’t know how much of my feelings for her are because of the spell or because I really do love her. Things with you have muddied the waters further. I do know I took her virginity and for that reason alone I should marry her. It is the honourable thing to do. I just didn’t want Stephen to take her from me and give her to someone else.”

  “I wish you’d told me sooner,” Arthur said.

  “Yes,” I said, unable to think of a valid excuse for not telling him.

  He watched Mercury carry Else carefully down the steep hill. “You do love her, Lancelot. I can see that. You need her too. We are different you and I, I have no real interest in women, you do.” His voice sounded strained. This confession hurt my friend. A difficult thing to admit considering our stations and responsibilities.

  “You need an heir, Arthur,” I said softly. “You will need to take someone, even if it isn’t Guinevere.”

  Arthur lapsed into silence. With his marriage a mess, having legitimate heirs would be hard. I felt for him but really didn’t know how to help. If he didn’t produce an heir he’d need to name one sooner or later on a permanent basis.

  The day drew to a close as we reached the lowlands in the valley. A small town nestled in the shadow of the hills we’d ambled down and we opted for a night under someone’s roof for a change. Arthur covered his head with his hood and we found the local inn. The inn offered two rooms, so we took both of them. I had no idea what the sleeping arrangements would be but I knew I couldn’t share a room with Else. We sat down to warm food, ale, which Arthur drank rather than wine, and a hearth. I surveyed the room.

  A small bar, with large barrels behind the counter sat in the corner. Good quality lamps lit the corners and candles were in a candle stand over our heads. The fire roared cleanly and the tables were highly polished. The bar staff were clearly just that, no doxies in this establishment. There were heavy beams over our heads and the walls were stone. When we’d taken the horses to the stable I’d been impressed with the cleanliness. Ash, clearly tired of being grubby, had allowed himself to taken by a stable lad without argument.

  I admitted to being ready for a warm bath and a soft bed myself. I’d been travelling with Else non-stop for weeks, with only a brief respite at Tintagel. Baths were being prepared for us so we settled into a huge meal of roast meats, bread, cheese and winter vegetables. We talked quietly as the evening clientele filtered in, consisting of a few merchants, farmers and craftsmen. They were all polite but left us alone. This place was used to travellers but was also used to being civilised. I liked it.

  “The two baths we have are prepared,” came the soft voice of a girl. The barkeeper’s daughter by his hawkeyed stares at us while she served our food.

  Else drew her breath in with excitement, I laughed, “Go woman and make yourself comfortable. You should have the other,” I said to Arthur.

  We had agreed no titles or names should be bandied about. He opened his mouth to argue then changed his mind, “That would be wonderful.” He rose and said, “I’m planning on an early night, so won’t be back down. I need to avoid drinking too much.”

  Geraint watched Arthur walk upstairs, as did I, unfortunately we had different perspectives. My mouth watered with the thought of the taste of his skin. Geraint spoke, “It seems you have a decision, my friend.”

  I tore my eyes from the stairs, which made my heart hurt. “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  He smiled and shook his head, “You have no idea do you? Arthur wants you. I’m not certain either of you understand what that means but you crave something more. Then,” he held his hands up like a set of scales, “there is your beautiful maiden. Else wants you to join her.”

  I stared at his hands, “Oh, fuck.”

  Geraint chuckled, “So, who to choose?”

  “This isn’t funny, Geraint.” I took a long draft of ale.

  “You want Arthur,” he said. I looked at him and realised he did sympathise with me rather than considering me a freak, a man with unnatural lusts.

  “Yes,” I finally admitted to someone outside my own head. “I do want him, God help me. I don’t understand it, Geraint. There has never been another man for me. I ache to hold him, bathe in him, become one with him. I love him like no other.” And it is making me giddy with joy and sick with fear, I added silently.

  “But,” Geraint prompted.

  “But,” I said slowly. “There is no future with Arthur and I can see a future with Else. A wife, a mother, a family of my own, Geraint. Something worth fighting for other than Camelot. Other than this foolishness.”

  “You will have to convince her Arthur isn’t as important as he seems to be. Is that fair when it isn’t true?”

  “I need to convince Arthur he doesn’t really want me. That this is an aberration, just as it was when we were squires.”

  Geraint sighed, “But that’s the point, it’s not an aberration. He won’t give you up easily. He burns for you, Lancelot.”

  My jaw bounced with tension and my knuckles grew white around the tankard. “I will go to Else. I can sleep on the floor in her presence. It will maintain the peace.”

  “She is easy to love, my friend. Don’t blow it. Someone else will take her if you fuck this up.”

  I grunted and rose. The weight on my shoulders heavy. I walked slowly upstairs, each stair riser feeling higher than the last. I heard Arthur in the bath singing some bawdy ballad. I leaned my head against the door to his room and every instinct in my body made me want to rush in there and take him in my arms. I groaned quietly, hurting deep inside my soul. Yearning for something I di
dn’t understand. I adored Arthur. I placed my palms on the rough wooden door and heaved my body away from the barrier. I walked to the next door in the small inn and knocked. Else called out a welcome. I found her drying herself, her slim muscular legs and arms still dewy with water.

  She smiled, with her dark hair slicked back her eyes crystal clear, she looked so beautiful. “I wasn’t certain I’d see you tonight,” she said quietly.

  I didn’t say anything. I covered the floor in three long strides and pulled her into my arms. The spell fizzed and spat but didn’t make me burn like it had done in the past. Else yelped slightly, her surprise clear. I held her tight. Her small body firm but soft and smooth. I kissed her. I kissed her as though I wanted to devour every part of her being. My raging erection hurt and my hips pushed into her, trying to force my cock through my clothes and her blankets.

  Else pushed against my chest, tearing her lips from mine. “What on earth is wrong with you? You’ve fought so hard to be free of me and now you do this?” she asked her eyes vivid with confusion and anger.

  “I would rather be enslaved to you, than to Arthur,” I said roughly hardly able to articulate my thoughts.

  She gently peeled herself from my arms, “You want me because you fear your desire for Arthur?”

  “No, Else,” I said meaning yes, but I realised she wanted to pull away and I feared the consequences of rejection. “I love you, I want to marry you.”

  “You might well want to marry me but that doesn’t mean you love me,” she said firmly. “I don’t want this until we know we are free of the spell.”

  “Else, please. I need release,” I found myself sinking to my knees the weight on my shoulders so heavy, driving me to the wooden planks. And I didn’t mean just an orgasm.

  “Oh, my poor love,” she said, walking to my side. Her hand on my head. “You really don’t understand what you feel for him do you?”

  “It’s not right,” I cried out quietly.

  “Go to him, Lancelot.”

  My head shot upright, I looked into her calm eyes. She smiled. “I am not your wife, Lancelot. I love you but I do not own you and I don’t think I want to.”