Chapter 1: A bedtime story indeed

"And so, we strapped the lance to his arm. No armor, completely exposed." The children at Chaucer's feet stared up at him in anticipation.

"Geoff, what are you telling them?" Will asked, walking up behind the poet.

A small girl with flowing blonde curls stood up. "He is telling us about you, papa. You and mother."

"Is that right?" Will shot a small grin at Chaucer, who just shrugged.

"They asked."

A fiery redhead popped up behind Will's shoulder. "What about the bit where you were walking down the road without your knickers? Seems you left that part out."

Geoff ignored Watt's comment and turned back to the children. Just as he opened his mouth to continue the tale, Kate, Jocelyn and Christiana appeared.

"That's enough stories tonight, Geoff. It's late and we have a long day's ride ahead of us," Kate called, resting a hand on Watt's shoulder.

"But mother," the small boy piped up, "It was just getting to the good part."

"Uncle Geoff can finish his story tomorrow," Kate said gently, kissing him on the forehead. "Off to bed with you."

The little boy then turned to Watt. "Please Papa."

Watt ruffled his son's red hair. "You heard your mother, Gareth. To bed."

The two girls sitting at Chaucer's feet snickered as Gareth skulked toward the tent.

"You too, Gabriella," Will scolded gently.

The little blonde wrinkled her face in protest. "It's not fair, Papa. We never get to stay up."

"Bed, young lady," Jocelyn added, tapping her daughter lightly on the bottom in the direction of the tent that the children shared.

Roland glanced at his daughter.

"I am going," she murmured, as she followed Gabriella across the small clearing created by the circle of tents.

"Abigail," Roland called.

The young girl turned, bracing herself for a scolding.

"Sweet dreams," he finished, blowing her a kiss.

Abigail broke into a bright smile. Nodding, she ducked into the tent after the other two.

With the children safely in bed, the old friends gathered around the fire, the couples cuddling closely to bar out the chill of the night.

"Ah to have another's body to keep you warm," Chaucer mused, taking a swig from the flask in his hand. "Alas my only comfort comes from this lovely little bottle."

"I do believe that you have had quite enough already," Kate said, pulling the bottle from his hand. "A day of riding after a night of drinking has never served you well, my dear poet."

Geoff cracked a smile. "The lady has a point. And so I take my leave. Goodnight dear friends."

The other chuckled as he swaggered to his tent, clearly inebriated. There was a large crash as he entered, followed by a muffled curse. Geoff stuck his head out the flap. "No worries, no permanent damage done."

That was the last they heard from Chaucer for the night, aside from a few muffled snores.

Kate sighed and held up the flask. "To six years."

She took a swig and passed the bottle around. When all had a chance to drink, Roland dropped a bucket of water on the fire and led Christiana toward their tent. "Goodnight friends."

A/N: OK. I know that I promised to continue last time and did not, but this time I swear I will post in the next two days. It's just that it is passed midnight and I have class in the morning, so please bear with me for a few more days. Thank goodness I am blessed with patient readers. You are all wonderful.