Disclaimer- I do not own any of these characters except Arelenne. All copy rights belong to Antoine Fuqua and the amazing cast of King Arthur R/R!
There were eight of them left now. Eight Sarmatian knights loyal to Arthur, Lucius Artorius Castus, their Roman leader, but they were embittered by their duty to Rome and longing for a home some of them barely remember. Oh they all talk of returning to Sarmatia, even Bors with a wife and eleven children who eagerly await his return to the fort after every battle. However, the truth is they do not know whether there is a home awaiting them. They had never heard whether their nomadic families had prospered in their absence or whether they were beset with tribulations and troubles. The unsaid is that maybe there is no one to return to, no one who would remember them and would welcome them back with open arms, no one to love them as they so desperately wanted to be loved. The reality was that admit it or not Briton had become home. Here in this land they had created a new family. They had spent years together nursing each other through battle wounds and illness, consoling each other when knights were slain or died and rejoiced in their victories and reveled in each others company.
Tristan was no different to the others though less forthcoming in presenting his thoughts on their situation and even more reticent about what he planned to do once he was free. In fact if anyone cared to notice he was less talkative than normal as the day of freedom loomed closer but it would take a very discerning eye to see that small change. Tristan had always been a little different. His tattoos identified him as belonging to a tribe of warriors that was further east than the rest of them so his ways were not always their ways but they respected his abilities and trusted his judgment for no matter where in Sarmatia he was from he was a Sarmatian knight and that was something to be proud of. To them Tristan was part of their family but his shyness was interpreted as aloofness. They didn't drag him to their company but they let him come and go at his own pace, sharing with him when he was there and shrugging off his absences as "well you know Tristan."
Unfortunately they didn't know Tristan. They didn't know how he craved their company. He didn't want their acceptance he already had that, he wanted more but he really wasn't sure what more was. They didn't understand that he longed to be comforted the way Arthur comforted Guenevere or to be held the way Gawain held Sarah. Yes these knights slept with women but that was more like rutting, there was nothing between them and the women except their clothes, but what they shared with each other now that was…well it was just more and all Tristan knew was he wanted that whatever that was but he feared he was always wanting something that he wasn't even sure really existed.
He didn't bed women like they did as a release to pent up anxieties after battle, in fact he had never bedded anyone, woman or man. Oh he knew how it is done, he'd heard the bragging, understood the basics (at least he hoped he did) but he wanted something deeper than a quick tumble in the stable after a drunken night in the tavern.
Sometimes he heard them at night as passion took them, sometimes he listened to the soft moans as the knight and their lovers coupled slowly and tenderly. Even Bors sought comfort and solace from his wife and despite his bravado they all knew how much she meant to him. Arelenne, on the other hand, had neither knight nor husband to comfort her. She didn't seem to need anyone or maybe she did and like everyone else Tristan had it all wrong. Maybe the girl needed someone to care for too. It's fine to fight by day but at night when you are war weary, bone tired and hurting sometimes it would be good to have someone there to tell you its all right that you can close your eyes and that they would hold you until the dawn broke.
Tristan wanted what the others shared, all except Arelenne she was like Tristan, alone. Tristan wanted to soar on feelings he can't even put a name to…he wanted to know what it was like to be touched, to surrender every fiber of his being to another, to simply feel and not think. He wanted to trust someone enough to let go and know that they would catch him, they would never let him fall that when he went over the edge they were with him and when it was over they would hold him tenderly, kiss him passionately and whisper words meant for his ears only.
Maybe this something he so desired was just a dream like having a family that missed him back in Sarmatia. He always believed that he would findsomeone or someone would find him and they would understand him as no one had ever understood him. Only now after all these years as their freedom was just a handshake away Tristan felt he had no one to go home to, the knights were his family and suddenly his family was going in different directions and Tristan felt more alone than ever before.
So here they were on this the penultimate day riding to meet the man who would grant them their freedom. For all of them, their memories of home were like those an orphaned child cherishes, a memory long since swept away by the harsh tide of time. Sarmatia was an ideal, a memory that Rome could neither conquer nor take away and they had earned their right to return to the home of their childhood...the question was would any of them actually leave?