Disclaimer: I don't own this. If you recognize this, I didn't create it.

An: Kindly words for my Kindly Reviewers.

Evenstar-mor2004: I told Bergisa congratulations for you. She says thank you, (I think). And yes, if Bergisa has anything to say about it, Lancelot will indeed stay loyal to her. All the days of her lives.

Babak: Evenstar-mor2004 says congratuations about you and Lancelot. I also told her you said "thank you" which I know you would have said. I'm glad it was your perfect wedding. Morgaine thanks you for your compliment. And Bri thanks you too. ;) There's going to be a lot of interesting things going on in Lancelot/Bergisa land, that's for sure.

LANCELOTTRISTANBABY: Yep, they finally got married. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.

lilstrummrgrl527: That's the reaction I've been getting from everyone. And yes, they will still argue. They wouldn't be Lancelot and Bergisa if they didn't spend their married lives in never-ending fights. I'm glad you liked Tristan. He's one of my current favorites to write. And Isolde, as his wife, does have to babysit him. It's her job! Besides, like Bergisa said, Isolde's on Bergisa's side. I'm glad you laughed. That's my whole goal in life.

op: I'm glad you liked that line. It sounded like a very Tristan thing to say to the man who would be marrying his little sister. I hope you continue to read this story.

ZELINIA: I'm glad you think so. I hope you got the chapter for the other story. Everybody loved that part. Keep reading please.

Natalie: Glad you liked. Continuing. ;)

dw: That was a good way to say it. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.

HGandRHForever: Where are you? Wah! That's two days in a row! Come back!

Lady Morgaine: God bless you! I hope you're all right.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Not long after Lancelot's wedding to the independent Bergisa, Michelle gave birth to her and Dagonet's first mutual child, a little boy they named Liam after a young knight Dagonet had once known as a child. He was dark eyed and serious, watching everyone with the same intensity his father did. He was a very solemn child, though once he knew his visitor, his grin was wide and unrestrained, displaying an adorably toothless smile. Dagonet, in Tristan-fashion, went around with a grin like a Cheshire cat for nearly three months after his birth.

Some three weeks later, Morgaine birthed her third child; also a son, that they named Ryan, or as his fathers were prone to call him, "The Little King." It was impossible to know which of the two Knights had sired Ryan, seeing as there were no defining features.

Not much later, Morgaine was at last alone in their apartments, enjoying the first bit of solitude she'd had since Ryan had been born. Galahad was out practicing his archery, probably hitting the bull's eye every time. "Why exactly does he have to practice again?" she muttered under her breath in mock-frustration, before musing wickedly, "I wish I was strong enough to go watch. He's probably wearing his kilt!" she cackled with glee, her mind's eyes volunteering the view for her willing mind.

Gawain had been begged by Arthur to train Gilly, Bors' oldest son, who was now almost fifteen. The two were probably engaged in one of their highly entertaining mock-swordfights, as the boy's father and siblings cheered him on.

Archie and Sanora were learning how to ride horses with their cousins, Viviane and Igraine, under the expert tutelage of both Arthur and Lancelot, with an adoring Bergisa watching them fondly. When Morgaine had protested their youth, she had been quietly reminded that Sarmatian children were born in the saddle; Morgaine had been forced to concede the point. Arthur and Guinevere's third daughter, Morgause -named for Guinevere's mother- was probably napping with Guinevere at that moment, as her mother recovered from her recent miscarriage. Tristan and Isolde had taken their twin sons out for a ride and weren't expected back before nightfall. Dagonet was spending time with Michelle in their chambers, both proud parents bonding further over the birth of their child. Jols was with his betrothed, Amara, the two having disappeared from the palace. To where, only the Gods knew.

All was right within the confines of Camelot and Morgaine could rest for a moment.

The rocking chair in which the contented mother sat had been crafted by a bashful Jols for her seventeenth birthday, some six years ago now. As she fed her son, she rocked back and forth slowly in front of the window. She smiled down at his head, marveling at his similarity to her. It was impossible to tell which of her Knights was his father, but that just meant that the two were always squabbling about which of them he took after more. It made for an amusing diversion, since they both adored him completely and equally. Gawain had been holding him the night before and had thought he'd seen a greenish tint to the boy's eyes, but it had turned out to be just the reflection of the stained window in the midnight blue orbs. Arthur had determined, probably accurately, that he was Morgaine's very picture and his father would remain unknown all the days of his life.

The music of nature that came through the open window -the grasses swaying back and forth….the roar of the ocean at the base of the cliff- provided the perfect complement to her calm mood, lulling her into a contented state. Her eyes drooped and her head settled back against the pillow behind her head. She must have dozed off for a moment, for when she woke Ryan was twisting in her arms and the sun was lower in the sky than it had been. She stroked the baby's head soothingly as Gawain and Galahad came in. "Good evening, Lady," Gawain murmured, reluctant to disturb her.

Morgaine smiled at the persistent nickname; what once had been a customary sign of respect had long since become his pet-name for her. Coming further into the room, Gawain moved to crouch on his heels on the left side of her chair, one strong hand coming up to cradle the baby's head. "Good evening, Gawain," she whispered tiredly, smiling at him, her free hand reaching to brush his blond locks back over his shoulder.

Galahad walked toward them, the dark fabric of his kilt swishing back and forth across his knees, before crouching on her right side, and Morgaine smiled wider. This was always the way it was; right-handed and impulsive Galahad on the right with left-handed and unruffled Gawain on the left. "Hello, Nazneen," the younger murmured, using one finger to push back the blanket around the baby to get a better look at the boy's face.

"Hello, Sarmatian," she returned, her hand moving to slice through Galahad's ebony curls.

"And how's our Little King?"

"Hungry." Morgaine informed him, before cocking an eyebrow. "All right you two. Neither of you are at all talented at subtlety. What is it?"

The two exchanged quick looks and then Galahad spoke, obviously appointed the spokesman. "You've never been to Sarmatia, Nazneen."

It was not a question. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "No, I haven't. You know that; I was born here, in Britain. What is this all about?"

"Our parents haven't heard from us. It's been nearly six years since we were supposed to be discharged and return home."

"Yes, I know," she agreed, shifting her son to her other breast. "Get to the point, Sarmatian."

"Tristan has already been and brought back the only family that remains to him. Bors and Dagonet aren't going; they have no one to go back to. But Gawain, Gaheris and I are going. So are Lancelot and Bergisa."

"Going where?" Morgaine questioned, though she had already guessed. She just wanted to hear them say it.

"We're going back to Sarmatia. Lancelot made a promise to his family that he would return, and the two of us made similar promises. As a matter of honor, we are going back."

Morgaine nodded, rubbing the baby's back. "So, you're wanting my permission to go?"

"No; we know we have that anyway." Gawain teased, his eyes sparkling. Morgaine chuckled, nodding in agreement. Of course they knew that; she would do and agree to anything to make the two of them happy. Gawain continued, "We want you to come with us; you and the children. It's where you're from, and we'd like you to join us."

Morgaine looked down at the top of her son's head, before looking up at the two men. "I don't know, doves, I'll have to think about it."

Galahad nodded, kissing her head. "You mean you'll have to get the opinions of Archie and Sanora."

Morgaine chuckled. "You know me too well. Yes, I need to talk to the children. This has to do with them as well."

Galahad nodded and kissed her sweetly. "Take as long as you need. Lancelot is leaving in about two weeks. We were hoping to go with them."

Morgaine nodded, one hand coming up to her husband's cheek. "All right. I'll talk to the children, and let you know."

So it was that two weeks later the travelers saddled Dar, Brute, Mary-Megan, Bartholomew, Bergisa's Sadira and Gaheris' Deacon, loaded down a pack-horse, gathered children onto the saddles in front of them and rode off toward Sarmatia. The trip was long, though amusing with Lancelot's and Bergisa's persistent bickering. Morgaine had not completely recovered from childbirth and usually left the two to their own devices. Thrilled to be able to practice his recently acquired horsemanship, Archie would climb into Mary-Megan's saddle when either of his fathers would pull his mother onto their horse in front of them for a short rest.

Sanora was more than comfortable with sitting in front of Gawain in his saddle, feeling his deep voice reverberate through his chest as he spoke to her beloved Momma. Though riding with her father was her favorite part of the trip, a breakneck gallop across open plain with Uncle Lance was more than a little breathtaking as well. Archie usually rode in front of Galahad, except for when he rode his mother's mare. The baby spent the trip sleeping, nestled to Morgaine's chest in the same sack she had carried Archie in, so many years ago.

A month and a half after their departure from Camelot, they arrived on the bluff above where Lancelot and his family originated from. The huts were still there, and Lancelot pointed at a man mingling among the structures. "That's my father!" he told Morgaine, eyes lit with excitement. "Pa!" he shouted in Sarmatian, plowing his horse forward.

Gawain set Sanora on the saddle behind her mother before racing off after the impulsive Knight. Bergisa and Galahad pulled closer to Morgaine, the three watching the two horses fly over the terrain. Gaheris remained apart from them as he had been the entire trip, plotting against the sable-haired Woad silently. "Must have been thinking what I was thinking," Galahad mused thoughtfully.

"Oh really? And what were you thinking?" Morgaine asked, with a teasing smile. She had no doubt that Gawain and Galahad had been thinking the exact same thing; they weren't the best pair-fighters at Camelot for no reason. They'd always been able to sense each other's thoughts and then act accordingly.

Galahad chuckled. "He's gonna get himself killed, just charging in like that."

Sanora looked up in horror, squeezing her momma tighter. She had picked up her older brother's terms of address for her fathers, and spoke up now. "Papa's not gonna die, right, Daddy?" she asked Galahad, worried.

Archie looked at his sister, haughtily, replying, "Come on, Sanora, Papa can't die. He and Daddy are invincible."

Morgaine and Galahad exchanged amused glances. Willing to let them believe what they would about their father, the two just shrugged and laughed gently, before following Bergisa down the hill as Gawain waved up at them the all-clear signal. Bergisa continued toward where Lancelot and his father were enthusiastically greeting each other, as Galahad twitched his horse to a halt, causing Morgaine to pull up as well. A woman stepped from the crowd, causing Galahad's eyes to go wide. "Ma?" he gasped, shocked and surprised.

Dismounting, he handed the reins to his son. "Can you handle Dar all by yourself?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Good boy," he approved, before turning and heading toward the woman he thought was his mother. "Mama!" he cried, causing the woman to spin.

Morgaine watched her eyes widen and her mouth formed a single, soundless word, "Galahad!"

The woman shouted the name then, lunging through the crowd toward her son. "Galahad!" she shouted, throwing herself into her son's arms.

Mary-Megan danced uncomfortably at the sudden crush of people, and began to rear slightly. Taking her daughter's hand, Morgaine swung the four year old to the ground and started to pull the horse in, forcing her into a standstill. "Good girl," she soothed, smiling at Gawain as he came up to take the horse's bridle in a firm grip. "Thank you, my love."

"Are you all right, Lady?"

"I could use a place to lie down, and some privacy to feed our son. But I'll be fine for the moment. Are your parents here?"

"I don't know. I'm kinda surprised to see Galahad's mother here. I didn't know that he and Lancelot were from the same tribe."

Morgaine shrugged haplessly. "I don't know. Maybe she has relatives here or something."

Galahad came back just then, his mother in the curve of his arms. "Mama, I want you to meet some very important people to me."

The woman smiled up at Archie, tears growing in her eyes. "You must be his son. You look much like your father did at your age."

Archie blushed in pleasure. Though he adored both of his fathers, Galahad was not only his father…he was his hero as well. "I'm Archie; that's my sister Sanora and my little brother, Ryan. And that's my Momma and Papa." Turning to the squire with childish unhappiness, "And that grumpy-gut is Papa's brother, Gaheris."

Gaheris glared at the child, deigning not to reply. Galahad's mom looked up at her son in confusion at the child calling Gawain "Papa". Galahad chuckled, "It's a long story, Mama. I'll tell you everything later."

The woman nodded, smiling up at Morgaine. "I am Medora, Galahad's mother. It is an honor to meet you. You have no idea how glad I am to see my son; I have grieved for his death for nigh onto seven years now."

"We knew we had to come and see you for just that reason. I am called the 'Dark Child,' or Morgaine, and this is our life-partner, Gawain."

"It is an honor to meet you both, Dark Child."

"Why are you here Mama?"

"Your father passed away two years ago. My parents and brother are members of this tribe. I live here with them."

Galahad nodded, though his face dimmed slightly at the realization that he wouldn't be able to see his father again. Gawain bowed slightly in respect to the woman, displaying the court manners that Morgaine and Guinevere had been drilling into the Knights since Arthur's coronation. "Morgaine is tired and needs to feed our son. Is there anywhere she can be alone?"

"Yes, of course. Come with me. And then you must tell me all about your adventure, my son. I have missed you so."

Galahad nodded, swinging up onto Dar behind Archie. Medora reached up and looped her hand through her son's. Gawain lifted Sanora into his saddle, gripping the bridles of both horses and following Galahad and Medora to her tiny hut behind her brother's. Gaheris wandered over to where a group of young men watched Galahad's young bride disdainfully. Morgaine was led inside and Medora helped settle her on the sleeping pallet of furs, Gawain giving her Ryan and Galahad covering them both. One dark hand moved to rest on her son's back, holding him where he lay, before Morgaine herself slipped into sleep. Gawain seated himself on the edge, keeping his hand on top of Morgaine's so that Ryan didn't roll off her belly. Looking up at Galahad, he smiled. "I'll watch them. Go and enjoy your reunion with your mother."

Galahad nodded, bending to kiss his wife's forehead. "I love you Nazneen," he murmured in her ear.

She murmured nonsensically, before subsiding back into sleep. Sanora and Archie each took one of their father's hands, before following him into the main room. Medora was stoking a smoldering fire and smiled up at her son. "While I start supper, tell me everything."

Galahad nodded, sitting down on the cushions and pulling Sanora into his lap. Sanora squirmed for a moment before getting comfortable. Archie leaned against his father's leg, watching his new grandmother closely, before listening as Galahad began to tell everything that had happened in the last 21 years: the story of his service, how he met Morgaine, the final battle, Gawain's relationship with his wife and the glory of Camelot. It was a story that the boy never tired of hearing. Medora could only listen to the tale with wide eyes, marveling that her son had even survived to come home to her.