Epilogue.

The night was chilly and cloudless.

Thank the gods. I would be happy if I never saw any type of fog, clouds, or mist again.

I peeked through the open door of the chapel, and watched as Arthur remained on his knees, lips moving silently.

I knew he was trying to reconcile what we had seen with his own beliefs…so I didn't disturb him.

I was having my own problems in accepting what we had experienced.

I turned from the door, and made my way to the little cemetary, stopping to crouch by the swordless grave of Arthur's father.

"You have a good son," I said at last. "Be proud of him."

I murmured a prayer to Mithras, the soldier's god, to watch over Uther's spirit, and that of his only child.

I stood, and thought on the few things that had come to light in the last few weeks.

The village of Tore? No people. Completely empty. No bodies, no blood, nothing found.

Just a ghost town, things left as if the people who lived there expected to return shortly. Food still on the tables, toys left out, chickens and horses left in their yards.

Our missing trebuchet turned up in the small river to the south a day later, broken and burned. Dag's axes? No sign.

Almost too strange and disturbing to contemplate.

The mist and the old man – not seen again. At least not yet.

I would be ready for him, if he dared show his face near Arthur or me again.

Rome was sending someone to investigate our claims further, and to retrieve the body of the slain Senator and his family. I was truly sorry for the deaths of his wife and daughter. Him … not as much.

I didn't voice this to Arthur, but had merely nodded my head when he had filled in me in on what Rome was doing.

Arthur was still not satisfied in reference to the missing people, and especially the three brothers we had met in the village. I knew he wouldn't be letting this drop anytime soon.

For now, however, I was content, if not happy, to go on regular patrols and continue practice drills.

I shivered slightly in the brisk British wind, and turned to go back to the garrison.

"Lancelot," Arthur called softly, and I turned to face him.

"Arthur," I answered, tipping my head toward him.

We stood still a moment, simply contemplating each other.

He looked away at last, staring at the unmarked grave in front of us.

"He died so long ago, I can barely remember him," Arthur whispered, and I moved to stand next to him, my shoulder touching his.

"He would be proud to call you his, Arthur," I answered.

"When you were in my rooms, recently," Arthur stated, and I met his eyes, remembering the time he was speaking of. The time when he had trembled in my arms for an entire night, when I had only held him silently as he had slept a troubled, light sleep.

"Yes," I said.

"That was the date of my mother's death," he told me, and I shut my eyes.

"Why on earth didn't you tell me?" I replied at last, taking his hand.

He shrugged. "We had so many things going on. I didn't want to burden you."

"Arthur," I laughed suddenly, "I want you to burden me. I want you to trust me with anything. What do I have to do to make you believe that?"

He smiled ruefully. "I will have to take your word for it."

I nodded emphatically. "Yes. Otherwise… I do have need of a new practice target."

His grin got broader, and I tugged on his hand.

"Come on, commander, I think the other men are waiting to ply you with drink. We shouldn't disappoint them."

We walked back to the garrison proper, comfortable together, not needing to speak.

I woke in the dead of night, the warmth of Arthur against me gone.

I called his name softly, and sat up, running a hand through my hair, the sheet pooling around my waist.

"Here," he answered, and I moved from the bed, my bare feet scraping on the stone floor. I pulled on my discarded trousers, and stumbled sleepily to where he was standing, staring out the window and worrying his lower lip.

I took his face in my hands, and tugged on his lips with my own.

"Shouldn't you let me do that?" I whispered, joking lightly.

He kissed me back distractedly, but still kept staring outside.

"Arthur?" I queried, and he swung around to look at me.

"What is it?" I added.

"I have to wonder just what the future holds for us," he answered. I cocked my head.

"A lot more patrols, some skirmishes with Woads, and perhaps a trip home, finally," I answered. He didn't smile.

"Arthur," I sighed, cupping his cheek with my hand, "what is done is done. Gods know I'd love to know what's coming…but I don't. So, I just go on, and hope for the best. Whatever fate brings to us – I'll accept it, because I'm at your side. And that's all that matters."

His green eyes met mine, and he raised his hand to cover mine.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" I asked, perplexed.

"Drive away all of my worries with only a few sentences."

"Pure genius," I shrugged, and he cuffed me on the ear. I smiled cheekily, and pulled on his hand.

"Back to bed, Arthur, before I think of something else to teach you," I whispered, and he smiled a tiny smile that lit a fire in my whole being.

I knew in that moment that I would die for him.

Not so much as just a concept of my devotion, but rather, I would actually bleed my last to keep him from doing the same. I pressed down a shiver, and smiled at him.

He walked me backwards, his lips plying mine softly at first, then with more insistance. I sighed, and fell over when my knees hit the bed. He leant over me, his hands on either side of my head, his intense gaze boring into mine.

"Whatever the future holds," he said finally, his body's weight on mine causing me to move my legs to wrap around his calves, "if you're with me, I don't care if I never find out."

"That's what I wanted to hear," I answered him.

Arthur let his elbows drop, and he rested on me, his hands burying themselves in my hair, his mouth brushing mine leisurely.

He dipped his head, and planted a line of hot kisses along the column of my throat, dragging a groan out of my mouth slowly.

A most pleasant way to spend a cold night.

Memories of evil old men and bloody corpses floated away on the crisp air, and my last thought before becoming incoherent with desire, was that this man currently pressing his long, broad body against mine had no need to talk of worries of the future.

He was destined for great things, even if he didn't know it.

I was damned if I would miss even a moment of it.

End.