Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anyone you recognize – just the ideas and any OC's.

A/N: The idea for this came about via some PM's about some of my other stories but this series isn't necessarily tied to anything else that I've done. That being said, you will likely recognize some names/faces if you've read some of my other pieces. I rated it 'M' because let's face it – the guys talking about women can get raunchy quickly since I'm not putting any restrictions on them or trying to fit them into a particular style. Normally I would ask the movie guys to contribute first then tackle the non-movie but I decided to just take them as they step forward. And – as a final note – yes, I am a softie so no, nobody dies on the ice or in the final battle. They all get happy-ever-after…whatever that means to each of them.


Gawain watched Áine through long, golden lashes as she sat pretending to darn someone's tunic while he pretended to coach their youngsters grappling and scuffling in the grass of the courtyard. It was a private game that had begun between Gawain and Áine shortly after they had met; they would slyly watch each other and the first one to be caught was the other's slave for the night… Gawain chuckled as he counted in his mind just how many times he had been caught, noting that the five boys currently knocking heads in all likelihood had been products of various evenings he'd spent as Áine's slave. He came back to the present when he heard her clear her throat loudly and realized that, yet once again, he has been caught staring while lost in thought.

Heaving a very fake sigh of resignation, Gawain rose slowly from his seat upon the step and stepped onto the small patio where Áine's chair was situated. He did his best to look dejected – he shuffled instead of sprinted and made certain his head and shoulders drooped, though that was really just to let his long mane hide the smile he struggled to contain. Reaching her chair, Gawain peered through golden strands and could not contain his own mirth at the amusement he saw in his wife's eyes. With a wink and a smile, he nudged her forward on the seat so he could slip in behind her; once he was situated, Áine scooted as far back between his thighs as she could while Gawain wrapped strong arms around her waist. They had spent many an evening like this before the boys – curled in each other's arms, speaking words of affection softly, trading tender touches and kisses…much to the aggravation and disgust of his brethren who had helpfully tried to suggest various places the lovers might take their affairs. The worst had been Galahad though. Gawain's relationship with Áine had strained their friendship to near breaking before finally, mercifully, Galahad had relented and accepted Áine as Gawain's wife…which always made Gawain chuckle as once Galahad did that, Áine had introduced the boy to the woman that shortly after became his wife…

"Caught you." She laughed quietly as she felt him shrug and heard his whisper that she did not sound surprised. Her slender shoulders shook with contained laughter as she patted one of his thighs. "You are correct – 'twas no surprise though I have to wonder if you are feeling well…?"

"Aye love…I am well…why do you ask?"

"Took you long enough to get caught; was beginning to wonder if this eve would find me cuddling with myself instead of my tall, strapping, handsome husband…" She laughed again quietly as he snorted into her hair.

"As if I would allow that to happen…" Gawain laughed quietly into her dark strands before pausing to watch the boys. His brow furrowed when he counted only four; he felt her tap upon his thigh and followed her eyes as they watched their youngest, Agravaine, retreat from the bustling pile of his brothers to lean against a wall with his arms wrapped around his knees. His chin landed upon his knees and his brow furrowed deeply before the boy hid his face against his thighs, his body awash with tremors. Gawain tightened his grip upon his wife and shook his head, quietly admonishing her when she attempted to rise and go to their son. "Leave him be…he is fine…if he were hurt or sick you would know…"

Áine sighed and gave in with a shake of her head. "How can you be so certain? He is young…there could be anything wrong…" She stopped when Gawain leaned to the side and gawked at her. "Have you forgotten the last time no one heeded his words that he felt ill? Not even Dagonet believed and, well, we all know how that ended…" She shook her head as she recalled the little boy insisting his stomach felt ill but Dagonet trying to foist the medicine upon him nevertheless…that was, until Agravaine had puked – on Dag, on the medicine, on the floor… Áine watched the small boy pensively until she heard Gawain's chortle.

"Aye, I recall that. But I can assure you that tis not the case this eve, love." He shook his head and laughed. "Oh my dearest…you never met the real one but I can assure you that truly…truly and without a doubt that little boy is his namesake all over again... May the gods have mercy upon us all." Gawain pointed to the dark haired child with a snort and shake of his head. "I know wounded pride when I spy it. He is fierce and loyal and moody and stubborn and…"

"And you would have him no other way…" She watched as Gawain shook his head then nodded with a growl of agreement. "Just as you would not change a thing about any of them…" She nodded toward the tangle of limbs with a sigh as she wondered just how many of them she would be pushing toward Dagonet's home tomorrow with various bruises and scrapes for the healer to tend.

"Well…perhaps…a few…" Gawain studied the pile and scratched at his beard, trying to discern what limbs belong to what child before he laughed when Áine's elbow found his ribs. "You are correct…I would nay change any of them." He leaned in closer and kissed her neck tenderly. "Nor would I change their mother."

"Are you certain? Because as I recall, you demonstrated your gifts from the gods to many a wench on plenty of nights…"

"Aye…then I met you and they have been your gifts to enjoy since…" Gawain growled in her ear, delighting in the fact that, even after all these years and this handful of boys, it still made her shiver and, if his hearing was correct, that was a soft moan caught in her throat. Deciding to test his theory, Gawain shifted and brushed his hand along the underside of his wife's breasts while he kissed the tender flesh at the hollow where her neck met her shoulder. He felt her hand dig into his thigh and he chuckled against her skin while he pulled his hand back along the same path, noting this time she shifted and gasped before lifting her shoulder in an attempt to evict his lips from the space.

"Gawain!" Her voice was a commanding whisper. "Stop that this instant…the boys are…flailing about and…that was exactly how I ended up with child the last time…"

"Well I am certain there was far more involved that simply this…" Gawain paused and again repeated the sweep of his hand and kisses, this time biting back a laugh when Áine smacked his thigh and hissed under her breath for him to behave.

"There will be time for that later…my slave…" She cleared her throat and nudged him with her elbow before nodding toward the pile of boys that was slowly losing participants.

Gawain rolled his eyes and silently cursed his children's poor timing as he reluctantly released her and rose from the chair. Heading toward the bodies strewn about on the lawn, he stopped abruptly when he felt the stinging smack upon his ass. Turning, he looked over his shoulder at his blushing wife who mouthed that she never could resist his gods-given gifts with a wink and giggle. Shaking his head with a laugh and snort, Gawain turned his attention back to the boys laid out in various positions as they panted and quietly argued about who had emerged the victor.

"Well…who claims the bragging rights of victory this fine eve?" Gawain walked through and surveyed the boys, laughing as each one raised a hand. Looking over at his wife, he noted that she shrugged and shook her head; he glanced toward Agravaine and shook his head noting that the youngster had given up sulking and was curled up, sleeping. With a shake of his head, Gawain smirked. "Well that tis a good thing that we have so many victors… That your mother and I have bred such fine, strong and hardy boys…since I will need much assistance on the morrow with chores… There is wood to be chopped and stacked and rotated for drying and straw to be brought down so that stalls can be cleaned, which will need to be done as well…" Gawain noted as he listed the various tasks, the hands dropped and they began to poke and prod each other, noting that this one or that one had been by far the superior and so best suited to helping their father.

Áine stood and stretched her back, smiling and laughing softly as she listened to the boys try their darndest to finagle out of chores before she spoke. "Well…if they are uncertain they are up to the tasks you have, they could sleep in a bit on the morrow and then assist me… After all, I could always use extra hands to help with the washing and mending and cooking…" She bit back a laugh as four heads shot up and eyes fixed upon her before they all scrambled to be first off the ground, assuring their father that they would be up early and ready to assist him in whatever way they could but right at this moment they needed to get to bed and sleep as sunrise would come soon.

Gawain shook his head as he watched them falling over each other in their haste to get inside and to bed. He chuckled as the eldest two, Uwaine and Bedwyr, stopped to attempt to wake Agravaine before they traded an exasperated look at the youth's stubborn insistence to be left alone and simply grabbed an arm each; hoisting him between them, they half-dragged and half-carried their youngest brother inside. Laughing quietly, he walked over to his wife and planted a soft kiss upon her head.

"You are terrible…threatening them like that…"

"Truly? I thought it was rather brilliant…"

"Brilliant but terrible…"

"Aye…I am quite terrible indeed. Thankfully you have all night to make me regret how terrible I have been to our beloved children…" Áine stood on her tiptoes and grabbed his tunic tightly before kissing him softly after each word. "All…night…my slave…" She laughed and winked as she let go and quickly made a dash for the house with her husband on her heels.