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A Misunderstanding of Legendary Proportions	By : monochrome Category: M through R > Mists of Avalon Views: 2126 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own or associate with the book The Mists of Avalon or the author(s), publisher, etc. of said book, nor do I make money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A Misunderstanding of Legendary Proportions
- 2-Clearing Things Up
- 1
- 2
A/N: Okay... Apologies in advance for this one. I'm not quite sure why, but I was suddenly in the mood to write something sickeningly fluffy and sweet, so there you have it. This is totally out of character and unbelievable considering the plot of The Mists of Avalon, but y'know what? I don't care! D: For once I'm giving y'all a happy ending, so just sit back and enjoy it, damn it!
The next chapter will have the real fun, and while I'd meant this to be a longer fic, it just sort of decided to stop on its own. So... there's only going to be 3 chapters. Sorry, everyone! Maybe eventually I'll post a sequel...
Chapter 2:
“He loves me?”
Lancelot interpreted the blond's shock as revulsion and shrunk back, ready to be screamed at, hit, banished from Camelot, or just killed on the spot. Nothing prepared him for what happened next.
“Lancelot, look at me.” Arthur's voice was soft, neutral. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, the knight slowly raised his head. The look on the king's face was unreadable, but it at the very least wasn't one of a killing rage. “Is this true?”
“Y-yes... Yes, Arthur, it is... I'm so sorry.” He mustn't cry... It was bad enough that his darkest secret now laid out for anyone to see-- he wasn't going to make it worse by crying. “I know this must be... disgusting to you...” Covering his face with trembling hands, the brunet fought for control over the flood that was threatening to break loose.
“When Guinevere figured it out, I thought I was going to die... but then she let me talk it out, and told me it wasn't wrong... But in my heart, I knew you wouldn't feel the same way so I tried to put it behind me...” Guinevere went to his side and held the man's hand comfortingly, looking at Arthur with cautious eyes.
“Tell him, Arthur. Tell him what you told me on our wedding day. He's bared his soul for you-- you should do the same for him.”
The king looked away guiltily, fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he considered just what to do. “I... Lancelot...” His friend looked up at him, a few escaped tears tracing their way down his beautiful face. Arthur chewed on his lip for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Lance, it doesn't disgust me because, if only in part, I am the same way.”
Dark eyes widened in shock, staring up at the blond. “W...what?”
Running a hand through his hair, Arthur blushed slight and still avoided the brunet's gaze. “I'm saying that, while I love Guinevere with much of my heart, I cannot help but be attracted to men as well. More specifically... you.” He smiled wryly, scuffing at the carpet with one foot. “I was just so shocked to hear you felt the same, I'm still sorting it out in my head. Especially after that affair nonsense.” He shot a look of apology at Guinevere, who sniffed derisively.
It was Lancelot's turn to be in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging slightly open. All in all, the face he was making was not a very attractive one. Arthur swallowed a chuckle and reached out to gently close the knight's mouth. “If you keep doing that, you're going to swallow a bug.” The brunet's face went red, his chin tingling oddly where Arthur had touched him.
“Does... Does this mean that... it's okay?” He said hesitantly, looking from Arthur to Guinevere and back. The queen smiled and shrugged. “Like I said before, if you two want each other, it does not bother me. After all,” she finished belting her dress and danced to the door, pausing to finish her sentence before she closed it behind her. “I already have everything I could ever want. I'm queen!” She waved and the heavy oak door swung shut, leaving the two men alone and staring after her with twin expressions of disbelief.
“... Wasn't she raised in a convent?” Lancelot finally spoke up. Arthur blinked and looked at the knight, a slow smile making its way onto his face.
“It matters not. I'm just grateful she's accepted this so graciously.” the king chuckled, stepping closer to his dark-eyed companion. Finally pulled from his daze, Lancelot looked up at the slightly taller man with wide eyes. Arthur put his hand to the knight's cheek, cupping the face that had broken many a maiden's heart. “I do love her, you know...” he murmured, “But all these years, I couldn't help but look past her and see you... yearn for you...”
Lancelot's face grew warm and an overwhelming feeling took hold in his chest as Arthur pulled him closer, their bodies fitting against one another perfectly. “You don't have to explain,” he whispered, arms enclosing about Arthur's body, “I've felt the exact same way all along.”
They kissed-- just the barest brushing of lips-- and suddenly all the years of holding back their love seemed oh so pointless. Desire swept through the two men, driving them together in a desperate embrace as they stumbled towards the bed, simultaneously clinging to each other and ripping at the clothing which served as the last barrier between them.
Tumbling back on the bed, Lancelot gasped as the blond's mouth found his collarbone, fingers callused from years of sword work clumsily trying to undo the laces holding the knight's tunic closed. Growling in frustration, Arthur finally just grabbed the dagger from its place on his belt and cut the ties.
Lancelot let out a breathy laugh at his impatience, the sound quickly turning to a moan as Arthur pushed aside the tunic and slid his hands up the knight's sides. Arthur pulled back for a moment, looking at his handiwork with a smirk as he settled into a more comfortable position, straddling the thoroughly debauched-looking brunet's legs.
He leaned down, lips a mere breath away from Lancelot's, hands leisurely tracing over well-defined muscles before moving up to pin the knight's hands down against the mattress. “Now that I have you where I want you, I may just never let you go.” Lancelot looked up at him, drowning in the blue of the other man's eyes as heat rushed through his veins. The weight of Arthur's body over his was driving him mad. He squirmed slightly, licking his lips before responding in a voice that was hoarse with want.
“No one is asking you to, my king.”
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A Misunderstanding of Legendary Proportions