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Never Be Mine	By : ezridax19 Category: G through L > King Arthur Views: 3053 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own King Arthur, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Never
Be Mine

I
hear your whispers
Break the silence
And it calms me down
Your
taste on my lips
Your salty kisses

They
say I'm seeking up the danger
That one day you won't let me
go
(I'll drown, you'll take me down)

I need
you Aquarius
Enchanted I will have to stay.
I feel you
Aquarius
'Cause you don't see, set me free
You call to me
Aquarius
(You call to me, you set me free)

Chapter
3 – Don't Fall

Guinevere
was utterly and completely bored. She had been moping about the
castle all day long, looking for something, anything to do. The life
of a queen was far too often filled with endless solitude in waiting
- waiting for what exactly she was not entirely sure. Arthur had been
gone on business for the past two days, leaving her to wander about
the stone walls and invent ways in which to fill the day. She had
already harassed the kitchen staff enough; she was certain they were
downstairs, cursing her name at this very moment. Not that she cared.
She was the queen; it was her right to question any and every little
thing that occurred within the walls of the castle.

The
midday sun was shining on Camelot and Guinevere was still searching
for a way to bide her time. In all truth, she was really searching
for any sort of excuse to not think of him. Only two nights
had passed since their last encounter in the forest, but her thoughts
had been constantly plagued with the dark knight. She wondered how
long their affair would last? When she would meet him again? Was his
mind just as plagued with thoughts of her? Would their secret be
discovered? Did he imagine her, when he was in bed with his wife, as
she did with Arthur?

She was
infected - he was the disease and she knew all too well there was no
cure. Not that she wanted to be cured, but how on earth could she
properly fulfil her duties as queen if she was in constant longing
for Lancelot's forbidden touch? Everything was so much simpler when
they were alone; but she could not live her life alone with him. She
had but one life to live – this one. Guinevere had gone over it
again and again in her mind, and still was unable to reach any sort
of solution. Best to not think on it for now, she conceded. Not that
that would accomplish anything, but she was too fully aware that
there was nothing at all she could do to remedy the situation.

The
thought of bothering the kitchen staff once again tired her, so
instead Guinevere decided to enjoy the sanctity and quietude of the
gardens. Camelot housed a most splendid greenery and though the queen
much preferred the green of the open forest, the castle's gardens
would suffice for now. As she made her way down the stairs, Guinevere
could not help but reflect on the events of last night's dinner in
the hall.

Without
Arthur there, she was the lone regal figure in the great hall, and
though the knights respected her greatly, they all considered her a
comrade and a dear friend after all these long years together. In
turn, she quite enjoyed their company and felt most at ease joining
in their discourses and constant ribbing of one another.

The prime
focus of last night's jest just so happened to be her favourite
knight of all – Lancelot. At first, she only quietly smirked at
the severe treatment the dark knight had to endure. But she soon
found her voice joining in with her own rabid comments, all in jest
of course. How she utterly delighted in teasing him.

“Lancelot,
do you recall that time you fell down the hill, chasing down that
Saxon bastard?” Bors was laughing at the recollection.

“I
did not fall! I told you I was pushed.” Lancelot bravely
attempted to save his honour.

“Who
the hell pushed you?” Gawain interjected. “I saw the
whole thing myself, there was not a soul behind you.”

“Ah,”
Guinevere laughed, “So this is the incident in which you earned
the name Sir Tripsalot?”

She
smirked at him, utterly adoring the way in which the blood rushed to
his cheeks, painting them crimson.

“I
did no such thing! I was pushed, I swear to you!” Lancelot was
getting angry now, which only increased her desire to torment him
even further.

“Perhaps
you did trip? Will you concede that?” Guinevere playfully
continued the game.

“How
many times must I tell you. I did not trip, I was pushed!”
Lancelot raged against her.

Oh how
she loved torturing him! It was all just a game and he knew it, but
he responded in exactly the fashion she so desperately desired. The
way in which his full red lips curled into that angry sneer, his eyes
closed into those seductively piercing slits, his soft dark curls
bounced upon his shaking head. It was his reaction, more that
anything else, that fuelled her to continually poke fun at him for
the silliest of things.

“Are
you quite sure Lancelot? It does not seem a very knightly thing to do
to trip and fall. But perhaps it was a fallen branch, or a fallen
apple that caused you to stumble?”

The sound
of the word apple leaving her lips caused Lancelot to quickly bite
back his tongue from responding. Instead his face became an even
darker shade of red, and he slowly shook his head at her, finally
realizing how this devilish queen of his had been gently mocking him
this whole time.

But there
was one person seated at the table who had missed the joke.

“Oh
that's not true! If Lancelot said he was pushed, then surely he was!”
Elaine cried out in defence of her husband.

Gods,
would the woman ever shut her mouth? If Guinevere had but a thread
and needle with her, she would have sown Elaine's lips closed
herself, and thoroughly relished in the task.

Guinevere
exited the interior of the castle to the smell of sweet pine and
flowers. She walked to her favourite place of the garden - the water
fountain bearing the statue of the blessed goddess. The second she
spied the blonde hair of the girl sitting on the bench in front of
the fountain, the queen almost turned back to leave, for it was the
last person on this earth she wished to speak with.

“Good
day my queen,” Elaine called sweetly.

Dammit!
It was too late now to turn back, and Guinevere had no choice but to
respond.

“Good
day, Elaine,” Guinevere replied as kindly as her voice would
allow.

“Would
you like to go for a walk?”

“No,
thank you I ...”

“Oh
please! Let us go for a walk.” Elaine was practically begging.

Guinevere's
patience was lost and she did not have the desire to argue with the
woman, so instead she nodded in acquiesce. It would be
pleasant to get some fresh air outside of the castle walls, she
convinced herself. And hopefully, Elaine would not have the need
speak at great length, as she was normally prone to do.

The two
ladies walked around the grounds of the castle, Elaine constantly
chipperring away in her sweet voice. Guinevere was only
half-listening to the girl, but managed to nod and agree at the
appropriate places, such that Elaine was never the wiser.

“Let
us go to the wall, shall we?” Elaine asked.

Guinevere
nodded on cue. She really didn't care where they went. She was
enjoying the fresh air if nothing else; though her company lacked a
thing or two to be desired. As they made their way to the wall,
Guinevere soon realized why Elaine has wished to come here –
Lancelot was on patrol-duty.

If there
was one thing worse than Elaine's company, it was Elaine's company in
the presence of Lancelot. The queen could do nothing but watch as
Elaine rushed into her husband's arms, kissing him warmly. Guinevere
suddenly felt ill as her stomach somersaulted, and she had to bite
back the acidic bile that rose into her throat. The sight of them
together was revolting; yet as much as she wished to avert her eyes,
her gaze was transfixed upon the pair. As if sensing Guinevere's
discomfort, Lancelot untangled himself from Elaine's embrace and
bowed his head.

“Good
day my queen. To what do I owe the pleasure of such a fine pair of
ladies?” he asked with a smile, his dark eyes shining brightly
in the midday sun.

Fine
pair indeed. Men would kill for a second in either of the ladies'
company, and Lancelot had the complete and utter adoration of not
just one, but both of them. Did he have any idea just how lucky he
truly was? Perhaps he did realize his fortune, or perhaps he needed
to be reminded of it?

“Your
wife requested my company. Though it is pure happen chance that our
paths crossed.” She answered him with as neutral a tone as she
could muster.

“Indeed?
And you had no idea that I was on duty today at the wall?” He
asked, still with that grin painted on his face.

“No.
If I had known, perhaps I would have coerced Elaine to walk on the
opposite side of the castle grounds.”

Lancelot's
smile quickly changed to a frown at her reply. Elaine looked
confused, yet she quite often had such an expression upon her face.

Why was
the queen acting so wickedly? Why did she have to pretend she wasn't
utterly thrilled at the sight of him? Part of her enjoyed teasing
him, in acting completely indifferent in his presence. But in all
truth, her current attitude was not merely an amusing ploy meant to
tease him, nor a simple ruse to avoid speculation. She was jealous.
Jealous of the two of them together. Jealous that his wife could kiss
him out in the open, and she could not. And that was the true reason
for her cruel words; and Lancelot was not fool enough not to realize
this.

“My
dear, I will see you later. I must return to my duty” Lancelot
said to his wife. Averting Guinevere's gaze, he placed a kiss on
Elaine's forehead.

Elaine's
lips turned down into a pathetic frown, “But Lancelot, we have
just arrived! Surely you can spare a few more moments.”

“Come
Elaine. Stop distracting your husband from his duty.” Guinevere
harshly reprimanded her.

Elaine
looked like a small child that had been slapped across the face at
some awful misdeed. Guinevere could clearly tell that the woman
wished to say something further; but Elaine was not foolish enough to
refute her queen's direct command.

Guinevere
smiled inwardly. Sometimes it did pay to be the queen; to have every
bidding she uttered obeyed without question. She had overwhelming
power and it was thrilling; though she was not the type to abuse it.
Well, not too often anyhow.

With one
final glance at Lancelot she turned her back to leave, with Elaine
trotting behind like a lost puppy following their master.

The two
women made their way back to the castle in silence. If nothing else,
at least Guinevere's tone had shut the other woman up; and for this
the queen was grateful. Though instead of her annoying rambling,
Elaine had found something even more irritating to do. Every few feet
they walked, she would turn and gaze back across the grass at
Lancelot, who was undoubtedly watching the pair's return to the
castle.

After
about the fifth time Elaine turned her head to look back at the wall,
Guinevere had had enough. What in damnation is she looking at! Can
she not go one single minute without looking at her damned husband?

Guinevere
made a tragic mistake then, and let her anger and jealousy dictate
her actions. She herself turned around, to see Lancelot smiling at
the two of them. That man, damn him. That smile of his caused her
heart to flutter in her chest. She could not help herself but smile
back at him, knowing that the grin painted on his face was for her
and her alone. She was too preoccupied with Lancelot's distant charms
to hear Elaine cautioning her to watch her step.

And the
next thing Guinevere felt was her arms scraping across the dirt and
her face sniffing at the grass. She had tripped and fallen, and not
elegantly so at all. The queen lay on the ground in a tangled heap of
her own long limbs. Her blood was boiling; she was so angry at
herself. Guinevere felt a fool and knew that she looked the part as
well.

“My
queen! Are you alright?” Elaine voiced with concern.

“I
am fine!” Guinevere growled back as she proceeded to
disentangle herself and rise as gracefully as possible from the
grass.

She did
not need to turn her head to know that Lancelot had seen her falling.
She could feel his dark eyes burning into her back. She would not
turn to face him and instead felt the warm blood rushing to her face.
With a final hissing snarl, the queen stormed back to the castle, not
even bothering to notice if Elaine was following her stride or not.

That
evening the queen did not grace the great hall with her presence at
dinner. Though her fall earlier today had not damaged her physically,
her pride still needed time to recover. She was in no mood for the
teasing she was sure to endure on Lancelot's behalf. Instead
Guinevere had her meal brought to her chambers and after consuming
her dinner alone, she lay on the bed staring up at the stone ceiling.

In her
solitude, the queen's mind conjured up a myriad of thoughts –
all of which were centered around that forbidden first knight of
hers. When would she see him again? How would she send him a secret
invitation this time to meet her? Only two days had past since she
had last felt his embrace, and she was already longing for his touch.
She replayed their last encounter over and over again in her mind –
vividly recalling each and every moment, kiss and touch they had
shared. The queen knew her lust was wrong, she knew her thoughts were
so shameful, fantasizing of the dark knight – here in her and
Arthur's chambers. Dammit! She should be thinking about her
husband in her quiet moments alone, not his first knight!

Guinevere
heard a knock on the door and cursed to herself, who is it! She
was in no mood for company. Maybe if she would ignore her visitor
they would simply go away? After a few moments the knocking began
again and with a sigh Guinevere rose from the bed, noticing that the
candle she had lit earlier was already half burned already,
signalling that many hours had past since dinner.

She
opened the door to find the last person on this earth she was
expecting, but the one person she had been desperately wishing it
was. Wearing his black leather pants and a white cotton shirt, open
at the chest exposing his tan skin, the dark knight's frame crowded
the threshold of her chambers. Just the mere sight of him caused
Guinevere's knees to threaten to buckle underneath her. He had a
deeply mischievous grin painted on his lips, and his hand was resting
on the wooden frame of the door while his dark eyes implored her to
bid him entrance. Glancing quickly down both lengths of the corridor
to ensure there was not a soul present, Guinevere moved aside,
silently inviting him into her chambers.

“I
came to see if you were alright,” he smiled brightly at her,
though the coy gleam had still not left his eyes. “I was most
concerned when you did not come to the hall this evening for dinner.”

She
glanced at him questioningly before moving closer to the bed, putting
a safe distance between them. She could not trust herself around him,
and her and Arthur's chambers was the last place she would ever wish
to succumb to his overpowering charms.

“I
am quite well. Thank you for you concern, but it is unfounded.”
She convincingly replied.

“Are
you sure my queen? After that terrible fall of yours earlier I feared
you may have injured yourself.” That impish grin of his only
grew larger as his words caused her lips to turn downwards into a
tight frown.

“I
am fine Lancelot. I simply lost my footing and stumbled. Nothing
more.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

He was
enjoying this immensely she could tell. After the ribbing he had
endured the night before, she could not blame him of course.

He moved
but a few steps closer to her before speaking again. “Are you
quite sure my queen? If there is anything I can do at all to
alleviate any discomfort you may be feeling, please do not hesitate
to tell me.”

Rolling
her eyes, she responded, “I was not aware that you were
well-skilled in the healing arts Lancelot.”

He
laughed loudly at her haughty retort. Her tongue was as sharp as his
and he thoroughly enjoyed their verbal sparring matches. It was not
everyday Lancelot found another person who could match his quick wit.
But the queen was his equal in this regard, which was one of the many
qualities about her he found so appealing.

He walked
even closer to her now, until she could almost feel the warmth of his
body.

“I
possess many skills that you do not yet know of, my queen,” he
replied, his dark eyes locked with hers.

He was
completely seducing her, and he had not even touched her yet. It was
his eyes and his voice that tightly grabbed her hidden desire for
him, and swiftly pulled her passions to the surface.

She did a
most foolish thing then, and allowed herself to be swept away by his
powerful tides.

“Well
in all truth, my back does ache quite a bit.”

It was a
game - a gloriously sensual game and she had just placed her piece
onto the board, countering his last move.

“Does
it? Well, let us see if I can not alleviate that awful ache of
yours.”

Lancelot
closed the gap between them and moved his hands around her to rest on
the small of her back. Her pulse had quickened to a now feverish pace
and she simply waited to see what his next move would be.

He moved
his head closer to hers and she felt her lips parting in
anticipation; but instead of the feel of his mouth against hers, his
breath tickled against her ear as he whispered, “Lie on the
bed, my queen, and I shall attempt to quell whatever pain ails you.”

Not
here. Oh gods, this should not be happening here. But it
was. And she was letting it happen. Guinevere was past the point of
no return. Indeed the second she had allowed him to enter the
chambers she had sealed her fate. Guinevere was lost, and if this
what what being lost felt like, then she never ever wished to be
found again. She soon found herself lying on her bridal bed just as
he had instructed.

“Turn
around. I cannot reach your back from that position,” he
teasingly smiled, still standing next to the bed.

She, once
again, obliged to his commands, and turned to lay on her stomach
facing the door, closing her eyes in delightful anticipation of
whatever Lancelot's mind had in store for her.

Guinevere
felt the bed sink slightly as Lancelot's body moved closer to hers.
Suddenly she could feel his muscular legs pressed tightly against her
hips, and his body firmly rested on her backside, as he straddled her
from behind. In the next instant, her body was completely aflame as
his fingertips kneaded into her back, massaging her tight muscles
into utter submission. She could not stop herself from moaning aloud
at the feel of his hands on her body, though she was silently begging
for him to remove the thin material of her dress so that she could
feel the full force of his powerful fingers caressing her skin.

As if
hearing her thoughts, Lancelot began tugging at her dress, moving it
farther down her back to expose more of her soft skin to his touch.
Lancelot's warm finger soothingly stroked her naked flesh, as she
felt him lean forward to whisper into her ear.

“Feeling
better, my queen?”

“Mmmm”
was the only reply her lips were able to utter. Guinevere was
thoroughly relishing the sensations his fingertips provoked in her.
The warmth from his hands travelled down to her belly before settling
between her legs in an aching throb of desire. The feel of his breath
across her neck caused her hips to buck in response, crashing against
his hard arousal.

That was
all the answer Lancelot needed and a seductive grin passed across his
face. He continued massaging her back, moving from her tense
shoulders, slowly down to where the material of her dress covered her
buttocks. His fingers teasingly played across her skin, eliciting
soft moans to escape from her lips.

Lancelot
pushed his body tighter against her and she could feel his hard
manhood pressed tightly against her. Guinevere slowly moved one hand
to reach around her back, and still with her head pressed tightly
against the sheets of the bed, began slowly unlacing his black
leather trousers. Her desire for him was overwhelming and she forgot
where she was. The only thing her mind could process was the feel of
his hard body against hers and his hands on her flesh. She was not
concerned that they where here - in her and her husband's chambers,
on her and Arthur's bed. Fully submerged in the dark knights tides,
she wished to drown in him, sinker further and further into the abyss
of their passion.

Her lover
suddenly stopped his loving caresses, and a moment later she felt his
body completely cover hers as his head settled against her neck.
Guinevere turned her head so that their lips could finally meet, and
just as his cool tongue entered his lips, she felt his hard manhood
slowly poking at her wet opening. Moaning aloud into his mouth, she
sucked at his tongue as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. Her
hips angled to allow him complete entrance and she gripped the
bedsheets tightly in anticipation.

Lancelot's
mouth was pressed up beside her ear, so that she could hear each
moan, each pant that escaped from him lips and he pushed himself
deeper inside of her. Guinevere's hips joined his rhythm perfectly,
and clenching the bed tightly, she bit into the sheets, suppressing
the loud groan that was threatening to overtake her. In response,
Lancelot's teeth sunk hard into her shoulder, as he thrust himself
harder inside her tight, wet flesh.

Perhaps
it was the achingly stimulating position the two lovers were entwined
in; or perhaps it was the fact that they were making love in such a
forbidden place, not just in the castle, but in her and Arthur's
sacred bedroom; whatever it was, it only fuelled their sinful
passions and made the encounter even more delicious than any of the
others. Lancelot's hands were firmly gripped around hers, and she
squeezed them with delight, bucking her hips even harder against his.
His hot breath on her neck, his warm chest on her back, his muscular
legs wrapped so tightly around hers. Gods, it was better than
anything she had even felt before in her life. Meeting his panting
lips again, she breathed in his sweet breath as he pushed her closer
and closer to the edge. Her moaning became louder now, and he
captured each sound in his open waiting mouth, savouring the desire
he so elicited in her. With one final guttural moan, her whole body
shook, as if struck by lightening, and she screamed into his throat.

Panting
loudly into her ear, Lancelot slowly disentangled himself from her,
laying aside her on the bed. He gently stroked her hair while softly
kissing her full red lips. Guinevere smiled radiantly at her lover,
staring into his deep brown eyes, eyes she craved for, eyes she saw
whenever she closed hers. He was angelicly beautiful, and the queen
adored him. Every single thing about him.

There
were words on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill, yet she
stopped them, just as she had stopped him of uttering them, their
first time together. Instead she spoke the only words she could allow
herself to say.

“Thank
you, my knight. You have indeed alleviated each and every ache in my
body.”

Lancelot
smiled at her, that glorious smile of his. That smile that she would
long to see throughout her days, that smile that caused her heart to
sing with joy, that smile that calmed her very soul.

“Did
I not tell you that I am well skilled in many areas.” Lancelot
replied with a coy grin.

Kissing
her softly on the lips once more, Lancelot spoke the words she so did
not wish to hear, though she knew they must be spoken nonetheless,
“Good night, my most beautiful queen. Sleep well.”

Guinevere
rolled onto her side, watching her lover dress, and with a final
smile he exited her chambers. With the smallest of sighs, Guinevere
disrobed and donned her nightdress, before burrowing herself under
the covers. It did not matter if she wished him to stay that night,
it did not matter that she did not ask him to, for she already knew
the answer to that question.

“Goodnight,
my Lancelot.” she spoke aloud, though he was already gone. I
shall dream of you tonight, and hope that you shall of me as well.

I
relinquish
To your powers
From your grasp
I just
can't hide

I
missed the danger
I had to conquer
You made me feel alive

They
say I have to be aware
That one day you won't let me go
Take me
down

I long
for you Aquarius
I need to be with you again
I fear you,
Aquarius
My destiny 'till the end

-Aquarius,
Within Temptation
- 2
- 3
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Never Be Mine