Disclaimer: I don't own this. If you recognize this, I didn't create it.
An: First I have to apologize profusely. I was late on Friday, and when I went to upload the next chapter, the sight was read-only until the next morning. But I had work and my boyfriend all weekend. Sorry! Don't kill me. (Ducks behind great big bunker.) Anyway, Kindly words for my Kindly Reviewers.
Andromahke: I'm glad you like them. And that's basically going to be their relationship. Bergisa has trust issues when he's gone for long periods of time, as you'll see later on, but they're all good. She doesn't quite believe he's given up his player ways. But if I had a brother like Tristan, I wouldn't be too worried about. Oh wait a minute, I do have a brother like Tristan. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. ;)
op: You registered? For little ole me? That's so sweet! I could kiss you. I'm glad you liked that. And yes, Morgaine is way too nice. It's just hard to hate her I'm afraid.
Maeghan: Friday was the last day. And so the count until July begins. Wah! But I hope you like this chapter.
LANCELOTTRISTANBABY: Don't fall off your bed. You could hurt yourself doing that! ;) I'm glad you were that amused.
Evenstar-mor2004: I actually heard that from Babak. It's her motto. I just incorporated it. And yes, they came to their senses. Morgaine feels you relief, and not a little bit of her own as well.
ZELINIA: I'm glad you liked the chapter. I've been busy and unable to work on it. I'll send it to you tonight, if I can, or tomorrow at the latest. I'd bank on tomorrow if I were you. And which story is getting really good? Healer or Once Upon a Britain? Just curious. ;)
Natalie: Yes, they are going to make a great couple.
lilstrummrgrl527: Yes, this is how my world works. I've actually done that. Which is why my sister is married to the man of her dreams. Actually, it was a closet, but that's beside the point. It worked fantastically in real life. So why not have it work in Healer? ;) I hope you like this chapter.
The green lama: I don't think I even want to know how it is that you chose your screen name. It's cool though. Thank you. I'm glad you think I rock. And yes, they are finally getting married.
Babak: Of course you get a wedding! Did you honestly think I would do that to you? Come on! You're my Babak! I'm glad you though Morgaine was pretty clever. I told you, Melinus was on Morgaine's payroll. And yes, Tristan is wonderful. He's hilarious, which is surprising in a way because he's so blasted quiet. Thank you, thank you!
HGandRHForever? Where are you? Are you there? What's wrong? Do you not love me anymore? Wah! That's the saddest thing I've ever heard.
Lady Morgaine: God bless you! I hope you're all right.
Chapter Fifty-Five
A couple months later, Morgaine was watching Bergisa run around like a chicken with her head cut off. Today, was Bergisa and Lancelot's wedding day. "Finally," Morgaine muttered as her eyes tracked Bergisa around the room.
Archie and Sanora were keeping amused in a corner as Morgaine assisted the panicking bride-to-be. Finally, she took the woman by the arm and slapped her lightly across the face. Bergisa froze, stunned, before smiling at Morgaine. "Thank you. I think I needed that."
Morgaine rolled her eyes, "That's for sure. Are you okay now?"
"I think so," she confessed sheepishly, before frowning severely. "Do you think he'll ditch?"
"If he tries it, Tristan is already on hand to kill him for you." Morgaine teased, her eyes sparkling. "Tristan is still throwing a temper tantrum about this you know."
"Tristan can do whatever he likes. I am going to marry Lancelot and nothing he has to say is going to dissuade me. Besides, Isolde's on my side," Bergisa sing-songed as Morgaine helped her slip the gown over her head.
The two giggled excitedly as they readied the bride for her wedding day. Tristan, on the other hand, was being carefully watched by his wife. Isolde had been relegated to babysitting him so that there would still be a bridegroom at the beginning of the ceremony. Isolde was currently shaking her head as he tried to suggest a million things that could halt the wedding. "Come on, Iso, can I at least threaten him? He's marrying my baby sister! She's more important to me than anything else in the world except you and our sons."
Isolde chuckled at her husband, going up on tiptoes to kiss the underside of his chin. "I am going to go and check on the twins." Smiling up at him innocently, she continued, "I'm going to be back in about twenty minutes. If you are here when I get back, I won't know you've gone anywhere."
Tristan grinned wide as he realized that his wife was giving him permission to at least menace the cocky Knight. Isolde, seeing that he caught on to her hint, smiled up at him and moved away. At the doorway, she turned back to look at him, "And Tristan?"
Tristan looked over at her, eyes curious, "Yes, my love?"
"No bloodshed," she admonished, before leaving the room completely.
Tristan grinned and slipped unseen from the room. He found Lancelot in his room, adjusting the lay of his armor nervously. The slither of iron on iron sent an ominous hiss through the room. Lancelot jumped, lunging for his blades.
He didn't get to them fast enough. Tristan had the edge of his curved blade positioned at Lancelot's jugular, causing Lancelot to watch his soon-to-be brother-in-law (assuming he lived through this particular experience) warily. "What do you want Tristan?"
Tristan smiled evilly, Lancelot suddenly remembering why it was that Galahad had once accused the scout of enjoying the kill. "Just to pass on a warning. If I find out that you so much as look at another female, whether she's a barmaid or a married or even a 3 year old child, I will cut out your eyes, slice out your tongue and then I'll take great pleasure in slicing you limb from limb. Bergisa is my sister. And I will not allow you to shame her with your womanizing ways."
Lancelot swallowed carefully, keeping his eyes fixed on the blade at his throat. "I promise you now, Tristan, as I will soon promise Bergisa….I love her and I will be faithful to her all the days of my life. No harm will ever come to her, so long as I have breath in my body."
Tristan watched Lancelot, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Grunting lightly, he sheathed the sword with a bang! "Good. See to it that it stays that way."
Lancelot breathed a sigh of relief as Tristan slipped from the room as quietly as he had arrived. Arthur arrived moments later, stopping in surprise at Lancelot's slightly sweaty and pale features. "Lancelot? It's okay to get cold feet…."
"NO!" Lancelot insisted, his brain already starting to imagine what vengeance Tristan would enact upon his frame if he even tried to back out of the wedding. "I'm not ditching out!"
Arthur cocked an eyebrow. "I wasn't suggesting that you were. I said that it's okay to get cold feet, but after you see the woman you love coming down that aisle, it goes away. I promise. I felt the same way before my wedding to Gwen. Which is why there is ale and the rest of the Knights across the hall with the children. Come on. A couple of pints will loosen you up. We did the same to Galahad, and Tristan, and Dagonet, and to Jols and you all did it to me. Come on."
Lancelot followed Arthur, joining the rest of his friends across the hall for a couple of drinks. Galahad toasted him as Lancelot came in, "Here's the bridegroom now! To Lancelot! The Final Bachelor Among Us All!"
Gawain laughed, "Here here!"
Lancelot smiled at the best friends, relieved of their children for a little while at least. Archie and Sanora were with their mother and the bride, while Viviane and Igraine were being tended by Guinevere. At last, it was time for the ceremony to start. Before going to retrieve and escort his sister, Tristan leveled a stern eye on Lancelot. Lancelot gulped at the blatant threat in his eyes before Tristan left. He breathed a sigh of relief, before following Arthur to the cliff of ruins where the ceremony would take place. Lancelot waited patiently beside Arthur, watching the small speck of white come toward them from the base of the hill. Morgaine waited impatiently in the place of the matron-of-honor, watching her best friend get closer.
When Bergisa finally arrived, Lancelot's breath caught to see her. She was more beautiful that he could ever remember seeing her. Her gown was pure and white, the train trailing behind her. Her dusky brown hair was pulled up into a simple plaited back-style at her nape, white roses threaded through the braids. The veil draped over her lips and down her back, obscuring his view of her shadowy amber eyes. He smiled at her, and could tell by the warmth in his heart that she had smiled back from behind her shroud.
Taking her hand from Tristan, the two turned to face Merlin. Merlin smiled at the two, before beginning the ceremony. "Do you, Sir Lancelot of Sarmatia, Man and Knight, take this woman as you lawfully wedded wife? Do you take her burdens as your own, her tears as your own, her life as your own?"
Lancelot glanced over at Bergisa, speaking firmly, "I do."
"Do you, Lady Bergisa of Sarmatia, Woman and Warrior, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you take his burdens as your own, his tears as your own, his life as your own?"
Bergisa voice was strong from behind the veil, "I do."
"Then, in the sight of those here, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Knight."
Lancelot pushed the covering out of his way and kissed his new bride firmly. Morgaine, at their left, squealed with glee, throwing her bouquet of wildflowers into the air. A happily giggling Sanora caught the posy out of the air, Galahad and Gawain cocking their eyebrows at Morgaine in amusement. She blushed prettily, before attacking her best friend as Lancelot let her up for air. "Bergisa!" she cried.
"Morgaine!" Bergisa laughed back, the two lunging at each other and hugging each other tightly.
The rest of the women joined them then, all of them laughing together and congratulating profusely the last of their exclusive group. Lancelot withstood the congratulations and applause from his friends as well, wincing slightly as Tristan's grip tightened fiercely on his hands. "Remember what I said, Lance," he warned, before moving away to collect his wife and sons.
Lancelot glanced at Bergisa and smiled. "Oh, don't worry Tristan," he murmured in Sarmatian, "I wouldn't dream of it."
