Author: Triane
Disclaimer: Not. Mine. Except Iona. Everything else belongs to someone else. Even more so now, that we're into movie territory - if you recognize dialogue or action, its because it's. Not. Mine.
Summary: The return to the fort.
The ride back to the fort was bittersweet, Iona decided. Laughing and joking together was as second nature to the knights as fighting was, but there was an undercurrent of hope as they discussed, for the first time, what their plans were. A hope that almost caused a lump in Iona's throat as she thought about what the formalities that night meant - even with proof of freedom in hand, they were under no circumstances going to disband immediately... but it was still the beginning of the end of their time together.
She sighed again, feeling Dagonet ride close and grasp her hand. His eyes were gentle as he looked down at her.
"You've been doing that a lot lately." She smiled wryly.
"Just feeling old, I suppose." He smiled, pressing a kiss to her hand.
"You? Never. My wife is to be young forever." Iona chuckled, her mood lifting at the love in his eyes.
"And what sorcery have you planned for that, husband?" Dagonet smiled, his eyes playful.
"No sorcery. When you are past your prime, I will simply marry a younger woman." Iona's mouth dropped, a disbelieving squeak escaping her throat as she stared at Dagonet's rakish grin. Her lips curved into a smile and she laughed, head thrown back, her melancholy thoughts flown far away. She sighed again, this time to try and catch her breath, and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. Her voice was light.
"And is this before or after I get Gawain to hit you with his axe?" Dagonet smiled again and pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on the sensitive skin below her ear, his low voice sending shivers down her spine.
"I'm not worried. My axe is bigger than Gawain's." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Iona's mouth dropped open again.
"Dagonet! What has gotten into you?" He smiled cheekily, looking younger than Iona had ever seen him.
"All is as it should be, love. I have you, and as of tonight, I will have my freedom. What do you say to seventeen children?" Iona's head snapped back, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"I think you may need that younger wife after all," she squeaked, and Dagonet's low chuckle reverberated around them as they entered the inner courtyard of the fort. Jols and his assistants were there immediately to lead the horses away, and the knights stood at attention as the bishop descended from the carriage. Iona ducked her head slightly, hair once again in her face as the Roman surveyed the men briefly, his gaze lingering on her again before following Arthur towards his quarters. A shiver of apprehension slid down her spine, and she used the chaos of the courtyard to take a moment and try to pinpoint exactly why the man made her uneasy. She felt someone's presence behind her a split second before Tristan's voice was low in her ear.
"You hide your face." She nodded almost imperceptibly.
"I don't need him paying any more attention to me than he already is... and something tells me he would if he saw." Tristan grunted low in his throat.
"Instead you create a mystery he wants to solve." Iona's spine stiffened. Fool. She turned and looked at Tristan, brows raised and eyes unsure. The dark eyes looking back at her were calm.
"You want me to kill him in his sleep?" Iona pursed her lips to mask her smile.
"Unnecessary. But I appreciate the thought." For a split second Tristan looked disappointed, but nodded slightly before moving away. Iona heard Dagonet calling from behind her, and turned to grasp his waiting hand and walk with him up to their quarters.