Hello everyone! ...shhhhhh I know what I've said about my exams and not update the fic for a week and blablabla...but when you feel creative what do you have to do? write, that's it XD

I had to do a little research for this chapter, about the knight's religion: in the movie it's said a few times that they're pagans and follow their ancestors' faith, sooooo...for further explanation feel free to ask, just know that I haven't made up anything but tried to stay true to the hystorical facts :)

thank you for the reviews so far! Even though I *almost* never answer, don't worry, I read and rejoice every of them :)
as always, reviews and critics are much much much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and blablabla

Enjoy :D

"Rus!"

Bors' voice thundered in his ears as they all moved closer to their leader, the man in shining armor, the half-roman half-celtic knight Arthur. He was about to leave when he had been spotted by his companions, making him turn to face them, interrupting the long awaited party they were holding for their upcoming freedom. The grave expression on his face should have been a warning, but they all were too happy and too drunk to pay any attention to it, forcing him to put into words the weight he was carrying on his shoulders since his last talk with the Bishop, the same man who should have freed them already.

"Knights" he called them, his voice solemn. "Brothers in arms. Your courage has been tested beyond all limits…"

"Yes" Bors agreed, his big head nodding.

"…but I must ask you for one further trial."

"Drink" someone said, and they all chuckled, the mood light and bubbly.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted." Arthur looked at them all, some returning the gaze, others still laughing. "Above the wall, far in the north, there is a Roman family in need of rescue."

Will felt the laugher die in his throat. Arthur's words didn't sound like a joke anymore.

"They are trapped by Saxons" he continued, holding their stares. "Our orders are to rescue their safety."

"Let the Romans take care of their own."

"Above the wall is Woad territory" stated his blond friend near him, as if it was enough information to avoid further talk about the matter.

"Our duty to Rome, if it ever was a duty, is done." Will said spitting the last word, disgusted, feeling the rage mounting in his lungs, making him sick. "Our pact with Rome is done."

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you" Bors repeated, pointing his stubby finger at their leader, his voice getting louder. "And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood?"

Will looked away, not capable of looking at any of them any longer, he felt burning fury building up inside of him, making his upper lip quiver as he tried to contain it. How could he ask this of them? A trial more dangerous than any other they had ever encountered? This was supposed to be the day when they could finally take a hold of their precious long awaited freedom, and instead they were offered more blood, more gore and death. This was more than he could take, more than any of them could. He heard Bors' and Arthur's voices rumble in the background, but he was deaf to their words, for he had heard enough.

"I am a free man!" Bors' voice shouted, snapping Will out of his thoughts, as he was not talking only for himself, but talking for them all. "I will choose my own fate!" His eyes gleamed with tears, the tears of a man whose most dear belonging had been taken from his hands a second after he had finally succeeded in grabbing it, after years and years of suffered longing.

"Yeah, yeah." Will glanced briefly at Tristan, who was still eating the apple in his hands, his silky voice nonchalant ad he talked, like the matter didn't concern him. "We're all going to die someday. If it's a death from a Saxon that frightens you," he glanced at the others while talking, his eyes challenging them, "stay home."

"Listen, if you're so eager to die, you can die right now!" Will burst out shouting, not being able to contain his rage anymore, looking back at him, letting his anger spill with every word he said. Those words were an insult, it wasn't fear that made them react that way at this new quest, it was the feeling of betrayal they all felt for their once again denied freedom. It was their right, it was promised to them 15 years ago, and now that it was within their grasp it had been taken away, out of their reach.

"Enough, enough!" Lancelot tried to tame him, to contain his erupting anger, only to be shoved away.

"I have something to live for!" He screamed on top of his lungs looking at Arthur in the eyes, meaning every single word.

"The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare." Dagonet was a man of few words, but the few ones he pronounced were filled with loyalty towards their leader. It was difficult to say if he was angry or disappointed, Will couldn't tell, for he never showed much of an emotion, even in a matter of high importance as this one.

"Bors. You coming?" he asked as he met him while moving away from the group.

"Of course I'm coming! Can't let you go on your own! You'll all get killed!" Bors shouted back at him, his words following Dagonet as he paced towards his lodgings followed by Tristan who, having spoken his mind, had lost interest in further discussion of the matter.

"I'm just saying what you're all thinking!" he added now in their direction, before stomping away from them, muttering under his breath.

Will was still standing there, barely looking at Lancelot or Arthur, stubbornly refusing to accept the reality, his eyes fixed angrily on the ground. Gawain moved closer, taking a sip of wine from his amphora.

"And you, Gawain?"

"I'm with you" he replied. Then, after glancing at his friend, added "Galahad as well", making Will turn to look at him abruptly, before going. He watched him take a few steps, heading out, then laughed bitterly at Arthur and at their own fate, emptying the amphora he was holding on the ground while looking at him in the eyes.

Not sure what would escape his mouth, Will kept it closed tight letting his feelings show through his gestures: he threw the jar on the ground, smashing it, feeling angry and crestfallen. He looked one last time at their leader, conveying all his bitterness and resentment in his stare, then turned and made his way past Galwain, not saying a word to him, not talking to anyone, heading to his lodgings.

As soon as he entered, he started gathering his things, the same he had unpacked a few hours earlier. In the dim light of the candles he tried to keep himself busy, trying to avoid any thought, feeling his rage still lingering deep inside, ready to burn again, to swallow him. It was all so unfair. They were free. Free. He didn't like that Roman, Bishop Germanius, hadn't liked him since they had met him after slaying all those Woads. He had looked so smug and arrogant, so proud of the slaughter he was stepping upon. A man like him wasn't to be trusted, that's what he had first thought of him, now he knew why.

Picking up a dagger Will stopped moving, breath lingering, looking at his own reflection on the water bowl next to his bed, seeing a very angry man returning his gaze, a man whose eyes were filled with anger and delusion. Looking away, his glace stopped on the dagger he was holding as he weighted it in his hands for a few moments, then threw it with rage on the wooden wall, screaming, the blade sinking into it. Panting lightly, his face contracted in a deep frown, he stared hard at it, and winced when another one thrust on his dagger's back of the handle. Will then turned to see a dark haired man standing in the entrance, his brown eyes looking at him behind the messy strands of his black hair.

"Tristan" he called, surprised to see him in his room. He just stood there, leaning on the side, his eyes fixed on him, making Will wonder why was he there. Feeling a bit uneasy, he started roaming through his stuff again, avoiding eye-contact.

"Shouldn't you be preparing?" he asked, without looking at him.

"You're coming too, huh?"

Will's breath stopped. His silky voice came from way closer than he expected, but he dared not to turn and face him. Shaking the feeling off, he laughed bitterly, spite still lingering under his skin.

"I don't have a choice, have I?"

"Yet you seem very reluctant about it."

"Who would willingly accept a quest that implies almost certain death?"

"You know, death isn't the end of everything. Our soul survives, it rejoins the fravashi, and one day we'll live again."

Will scoffed under his breath. He knew well what their ancestor's religion stated, and what was in store for their souls: they had sinned in this life, therefore weren't allowed to find eternal peace returning to Ahura's bosom but had to reincarnate, in order to purify their immortal soul and wear off their past lives' sins. Even so, he didn't like the thought of ending this life before its time.

"Our souls will live again…not us" he whispered almost to himself.

"Isn't it the same?"

His voice gave him the chills, it felt like a caress on his skin. He had moved even closer now, he could feel his proximity, not knowing how, but he felt him near him. Will then turned to face him, not being able to avoid him anymore, and met his eyes only a few inches from his, holding his breath. He didn't expect him to be this close.

The right side of Tristan's face was partially lit by the warm light of the candles, illuminating his sharp features, lighting up his cheekbones, making his eyes shine with warmth.

Will couldn't look away, their eyes were locked together in an infinite exchange that didn't need words. They stood there like that for a long time, longer than he could imagine, because when Tristan finally moved the candles were almost worn out, their dim flames barely lit. His hand came up to his cheek, cupping it, caressing it with force, possessively, his eyes now looking insistently at his mouth. Will's lips parted under his stare, his pulse accelerated under his touch.

Tristan seemed to bare his teeth in a brief growl, before moving closer, the gap between their lips becoming thinner and thinner…