"Good morning, Sir Gwaine!" Lord Bertilak's cheerful voice boomed across the cavernous hall, as the groggy knight shuffled forward to greet his host. "Come, come! Take a seat and have a bite to eat."
"Thanks," Gwaine mumbled, slightly embarrassed as his stomach produced an audible growl.
The long table was covered in platters heaped with fried sausages, thick slices of ham, crispy strips of bacon, stewed fruit and pickled eggs, several different varieties of breads, cakes, and tarts, serving bowls filled to overflowing with fresh honey butter and preserves... Gwaine sank down in the chair that was offered to him, suddenly faint with hunger as the delicious aromas invaded his senses. He barely had the restraint to make himself wait until Lord Bertilik had filled his own plate, as basic courtesy demanded of a household guest.
Lord Bertilak seemed to sense his feelings, however, as his face broke into a knowing grin. "As much as I admire your impeccable manners, Sir Gwaine, there's no need for such formality when I'm only offering a casual breakfast. Please, help yourself. As it happens, I've already eaten."
A few minutes later, Gwaine was so engrossed in his meal that he didn't notice as two small figures slipped quietly into the hall. It was only when the sound of a soft, feminine voice reached his ears that he looked up in surprise, nearly choking on a mouthful of ham as his eyes fell upon an astonishingly beautiful woman with a thick cascade of bright golden curls.
"Ho there!" Lord Bertilak exclaimed as he pounded Gwaine heartily on the back. "You all right?"
"Y-Yes, thank you. Forgive me, I..."
Lord Bertilak waved a lazy hand, beckoning the pair of women over to the table. "No offense given," he said mildly, smiling as he gave Gwaine a final, friendly pat and moved back to his own seat. "You're far from the first man my Lynna's loveliness has affected in such a manner. I tell her she should refrain from introducing herself at meals for this very reason, but like any self-respecting woman, she disregards my counsel and does exactly as she pleases instead."
There was a definite rolling of eyes as the men chuckled quietly to themselves.
"Lynna, my dear! This is the noble Sir Gwaine I spoke to you about, revered throughout the land as a fearless warrior and faultless example of courtly chivalry. Sir Gwaine, please meet my wife, the Lady Lynna. Next to Queen Guinevere herself, you'll not find a finer example of grace and beauty in all the five kingdoms."
Feeling anything but noble, Gwaine rose to his feet, praying that his face wasn't too red as he leaned over the extended hand and pressed a respectful kiss against the backs of Lynna's delicate fingers. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my lady," he managed somewhat gruffly.
She regarded him solemnly as he gazed down at her, finding himself entranced by a pair of eyes that were as deep and blue as a mountain lake. Her lips moved, but he couldn't seem to make out what they were saying... all he knew was they were plump and enticingly pink, the kind of mouth that just begged to be kissed. He would've done so in a minute if she hadn't been a married woman, and it was that reminder that soon brought him back to his senses.
As Lord Bertilak took his wife's hand and helped her into a chair, he turned to face the other newcomer. She had been easy to overlook when confronted with Lynna's radiant beauty, an elderly, plain faced woman clad in voluminous robes of simple black wool. Her nose was overly large, and her mouth just a trifle too thin, but her eyes shone with warmth as she patiently endured his scrutiny.
Gwaine glanced at Lord Bertilak in the hope of an introduction, but the other man was seated close to his wife, clasping one of her small hands between his own as he gazed at her with an expression of utter adoration. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt such an intimate moment, so he shrugged and turned back to the stranger before him instead.
"I'm Gwaine," he offered with a friendly smile.
"I deduced that much," she said with a curt nod. "Well, Sir Gwaine, if there's nothing left to say, I'm starving."
If she had been anyone else, he might have pressed her for her own name in return. In this situation, however, respect for an elder and common courtesy dictated that he remain silent. Graciously, he held out his hand to help her into her chair, which she accepted with an expression of surprise.
"What will you do today, my love?" Lady Lynna asked her husband sweetly as she nibbled on a slice of pear.
"The weather's been relatively mild lately. Thought I'd take the men out for a hunt."
"You're always hunting," she replied, though the words were fond rather than angry or bitter. "Tell me, will you be taking Sir Gwaine with you?"
Lord Bertilak narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "I expect our guest could use an opportunity to rest after the trials he has suffered. I'm sure he'll be better off here with you to tend to his needs, my dear. What do you think, Sir Gwaine? We would be honored to have you stay here and avail yourself of our humble hospitality."
Gwaine thought to protest, but in truth, he was still drained from his long quest. The idea of venturing back out into the cold, even for a pleasurable activity such as hunting, wasn't all that appealing next to the promise of good food and a warm hearth.
"As you say, my lord," he replied amiably.
"That's settled then!" Lord Bertilak proclaimed in a satisfied voice. "And as the two of us are finished with our meal, allow me to escort you back to your chamber. Ladies, if you will excuse us..."
Gwaine obediently followed the other man as he strode purposefully out of the hall, then through a wide corridor and up a flight of steps. They'd almost reached their destination, when Lord Bertilak turned abruptly and studied him for a moment.
"I regret that you'll have to miss today's enjoyment, Sir Gwaine. Might I suggest a little wager to keep us both entertained during our separation?"
"Of course," he responded with a great deal of interest. Betting, whether the stakes were great or small, had always been one of his greatest weaknesses. He couldn't begin to calculate how many gold coins he'd lost at Merlin's skillful hands, nor did he particularly want to.
"I will give you the greatest prize I win today, if you swear to do the same in kind."
Gwaine frowned in confusion. "That's a fine offer, my lord, but I'll just be lingering around the castle. What can I possibly hope to...?"
Lord Bertilak held up a hand to stop him. "The greatest treasures can often be found where we least expect them to be hidden. If I am right, this evening should provide a pleasant surprise for us both. If I am wrong, well, you'll have the satisfaction of thinking me a fool."
"I would never assume any such thing," Gwaine said politely.
"Courteous to a fault. I expected nothing less. Very well, Sir Gwaine... do I have your word?"
"Yes."
Gwaine was dozing peacefully when he was suddenly awakened by the barely audible opening and closing of a door, followed by a patter of light footsteps. Instinctively, he reached for the scabbard that rested against the bedside table, only to quickly withdraw his hand as he recognized the Lady Lynna. She smiled at him as she approached, something coy and mysterious and altogether fascinating playing just behind her fathomless eyes.
Gone was the demure dressing gown she'd worn at breakfast that morning, replaced by a silk dress of the palest lilac that flowed smoothly over a wealth of curves he hadn't been fortunate enough to observe until that moment.
He couldn't think of a single word to utter as she drew nearer, nor was it possible for him to move as she settled herself comfortably on the bed beside him. All he could do was stare, entranced by the swell of her breasts against the thin fabric as she drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak.
"Forgive me for disturbing you," she said softly, reaching out to straighten the blanket that lay across his hips. "I just came to see if you were well... if you needed anything."
"I-I'm fine," he said after a moment's hesitation, inwardly cursing the way his voice came out harsh and unsteady. "Thank you, but there's no need to trouble yourself on my account."
She shook her head, stunning him into renewed silence as she traced a single finger along the rough stubble that dotted his jaw. "It's no trouble, really. Honestly, there isn't much to do around here, especially during the winter. I'd welcome a bit of pleasant company."
"If you'll allow me to dress, I'd be happy to accompany you down to the main hall," he offered courteously. "I bring many tales from Camelot that I'm sure you'd enjoy, and..."
"I'm sure I would," she murmured, peeking up at him through a fringe of sinfully thick, dark lashes. "But you need your rest, Sir Gwaine. What kind of host would I be if I forced you out of your bed for no other reason than my own selfish amusement?"
He shifted uncomfortably, trying to put a little more distance between them without making it obvious he was doing so. "Surely it's not proper for us to be alone in my chamber like this," he said, attempting to soften the words with a playful grin. "What would your husband say?"
"That isn't important. After all, he won't even return until late this evening, and the servants are all busy at their tasks. No one will ever know I was here. We can pass the afternoon as we like."
The invitation in her voice became unmistakable as she leaned closer, her face mere inches from his own. Gwaine closed his eyes and swallowed hard, the sweet, feminine scent of the impossibly lovely woman nearly overpowering any reminder that this was Lord Bertilak's wife, a man who'd rescued him and treated him with the utmost kindness.
No, some things were unmistakably wrong, matter how much he might have wished otherwise.
With that firm conviction, he took a moment to compose himself, meeting her gaze for the briefest instant just before he tilted his head and planted a whisper of a kiss on her soft cheek. "I can think of nothing I'd like more than to pass the afternoon in whatever way would please you most, my lady," he said gently. "But as you say, I do need my rest, and I'm afraid I'm far too weary to do anything but sleep. Please forgive me."
Constrained by the dictates of courtesy, Lady Lynna was left with no choice but to graciously accept his excuses. She departed with a smile and a quiet murmur of, "Sweet dreams, Sir Gwaine. Until next time..."
When Lord Bertilak returned that evening, he immediately presented Gwaine with nearly a dozen fine, fat rabbits. As the men were cold, tired, and famished, there was little chance for conversation until all had gathered around the long trestle tables to await their meal.
The platters were filled with a variety of breads, cheeses, and winter vegetables, but there wasn't a trace of meat to be seen until the rabbits were brought out from the kitchens, roasted to perfection and still simmering in their own juices. One by one, they were set before Gwaine; no one attempted to reach for the succulent meat despite the numerous hungry gazes that flickered in his direction.
"The prize is yours," Lord Bertilak announced rather grandly. "Do with them as you will."
"Everyone should share in this feast that you've so generously provided. Please, all of you... help yourselves."
"A fine gesture, to be sure. But you should at least claim the best cuts of meat for yourself beforehand, my friend. It is your right, after all."
Gwaine's mouth twisted in amusement as he shook his head. "Let everyone have a serving, and then I will choose from what is left."
Sometime later, after everyone had drank and feasted themselves into a haze of drowsy contentment, Lord Bertilak joined him by the fire.
"Impressive," he said with a look of deep respect. "Most impressive. But I still have not claimed my prize."
Without a word, Gwaine leaned closer and planted a gentle kiss on the man's stubbled cheek.
On the second day, Lord Bertilak and his men had barely departed before Lady Lynna crept into Gwaine's chamber. He was out of bed and fully dressed when she arrived this time, so at least the situation wasn't quite as compromising as it had been on the previous day. Nevertheless, Lynna held a similar power over him as she sauntered forward to join him at the window, her very presence arousing his senses to a fever pitch before she'd even crossed the room. And then he nearly lost control altogether as she encircled his waist with her arms and pressed herself against him from behind.
"Alone again," she said upon a breathy sigh.
He pulled himself out of her clutches with the utmost reluctance, trying to make it seem as if he were simply turning around to greet her properly. Facing her didn't help... tendrils of shining gold hair spilled across her bare shoulders, falling to brush across the top of full breasts that were half exposed in the midnight blue gown she wore. Unable to help himself, he groaned aloud.
Lynna frowned. "Is something wrong?"
Spying an opportunity, desperate for any excuse to escape the situation before he ended up doing something he'd deeply regret, Gwaine grabbed at it with the last bit of restraint he still possessed. "I must offer you my deepest apologies, my lady. I'm afraid... well, eating so much rich food after months of near starvation has unsettled me a bit. I'm afraid I'm not feeling well."
And again, there was nothing for her to do except offer her sympathies and leave him with the sincere wish for a speedy recovery.
"Thank you for being so gracious in light of my failings," he said generously, leaning down to place a kiss on either cheek before he showed her to the door.
They were the very same kisses he bestowed on Lord Bertilak that evening, after the entire household had feasted themselves upon the finest stag Gwaine had ever seen. The stakes were rising... he only hoped that on the morrow, the last day before he would be obligated to keep his appointment at the Green Chapel, he'd be able to continue to resist the unbearable temptation of the one prize that was not his to take.
It wouldn't be so easy this time. That much he could tell by the way Lynna's eyes caught his own whenever they drifted in his direction, capturing his attention with a gaze that was so heady, so full of sensual promise, that it was all he could do not to stride across the crowded hall and take her right then and there in front of everyone. The last of his defenses were swiftly melting away... how could he possibly hope to restrain himself the next time they were alone?
