(( Yes, I stole Lancelot's moment but I had to. Thanx for all your reviews!))
Arelenne and Tristan silently made their way to the great hall to meet the Bishop, Arthur and their fellow knights. The hour of their freedom was at hand and each of them contemplated their future as they walked the familiar path to the legendary round table. There was no need to talk. They had already shared much this day and now was the time for quiet reflection before the evening became one of rejoicing and partying.
Tristan thought back to earlier in the evening as they had lain together, talking and touching. Eventually time had forced them to rise and ready themselves for the night's other activities. Arelenne had tenderly rebound Tristan's aching ribs and now as he walked with his lover, Tristan sighed, as he felt the sharp pain in his chest, reminding him that the day had been one of highs and lows. For sure, Arelenne had warned him that rigorous movement would aggravate his injuries and she was right but Tristan could not regret what had transpired between them. He remembered how Arelenne had carefully helped him adjust his attire before they left the confines of Tristan's quarters. And he groaned aloud, as he recalled how, as they moved to the door, Arelenne had pulled Tristan to her for one more intense and passionate kiss that left Tristan feeling thoroughly debauched and hungry for more.
"Tristan, are you all right, you just groaned?" asked his concerned friend, as they walked along the path.
"My ribs are a bit tender, breathed in too deep I think," Tristan quickly replied. He truly hoped Arelenne wouldn't press him for more information as he wasn't sure he could keep quiet about what he was really thinking.
Luck was on Tristan's side as they continued on their way, once more in silence. Tristan's thoughts next strayed to the forthcoming meeting with the Bishop and their imminent discharge from Roman service. Tristan had had a long time to reflect on what being free meant to him and he had always associated freedom with loneliness. Now, despite Arelenne knowing how Tristan felt about her, Tristan assumed that Arelenne was totally unaware that he was still undecided about returning to his ancestral home. Indeed, Tristan still vividly remembered the day the Romans murdered his mother, slaughtered his people, burned his village and tore him away from his past. His life for the last fifteen years had been in Britain and free or not, unlike his fellow knights, he had nothing to return to in Sarmatia.
Even though the thought of sharing his life with Arelenne was very appealing, the day had left Tristan with mixed emotions. It wasn't that Tristan didn't believe Arelenne cared for him, he knew she did, her actions had shown that so clearly. It was that their passion seemed so impulsive after all the years of longing. As Tristan had grown he had developed such intense feelings for Arelenne, but he never knew how to approach the lovely knightess or even if Arelenne desired him that way. Now today he had it all and Arelenne said she wanted them to be together, but deep down Tristan feared it was nothing more than a goodwill gesture by a dear friend. It all seemed too perfect, too easy, for him to truly believe it would last. Tristan kept thinking if he hadn't fallen, then Arelenne wouldn't have known how he felt. If he hadn't dozed off in the bathhouse then Arelenne wouldn't have know what fantasies dwelt in Tristan's dreams. If he hadn't let Arelenne kiss him, he would never have known what it felt like to be desired by another. Too many ifs, he thought. His fall was the cause of it all, he reasoned. Obviously his inhibitions had been knocked out of him on the battlefield. Now, because he and Arelenne had engaged in some limited lovemaking, Arelenne was planning a future for them that Tristan wasn't convinced he wanted and yet wasn't sure he could say no to. So part of him was hoarding away experiences like today to stave off the isolation of the long lonely years ahead, while another part was ready to leave with Arelenne and the others and try to make a new life with people he trusted and loved.
As they neared the hall, Tristan began to feel uneasy. Despite his dilemma about going or staying he couldn't deny that he had enjoyed the afternoon's activities immensely. However, he really didn't want to share anything from this mixed up day with the other knights, and yet he feared the minute he entered the room they would know what had happened between him and Arelenne.
Of course, on entering the hall, all faces turned to them; their friends were obviously concerned for his well-being. Bors slapped Tristan on the back and asked, in his booming voice, whether he was feeling better. Tristan already skittish by the prospect of having to face questions about his afternoon blushed profusely, something he had rarely done even as a young boy. Without looking at the knight, he quickly nodded yes and fled past Bors to the relative sanctuary of his designated chair. Bors arched his eyebrows questioningly at Arelenne, as Tristan's behaviour seemed even more unusual than normal. Arelenne merely shrugged and took up her seat next to Bors.
Gawain turned to Tristan and saw the flush on his friend's face. "Tristan what's wrong?" he asked, fearing the man had a fever.
Tristan, in an effort to minimize discussion, merely mumbled, "I fell."
Oh not again, thought Gawain. Looking past Tristan to Arelenne, Gawain asked, "I thought we had got past this earlier?"
Tristan realized his answer would only cause further questions so he swiftly explained, "Sorry I…," he stammered. "I am a little injured but I will heal. Thank you my friend"
"Oh good. You just looked very flushed and I feared Arelenne had worked you too hard this afternoon instead of having you asleep."
Tristan blushed further, if that was at all possible. Gawain looked on in dismay, as Tristan stared at him, flustered, open-mouthed and dumbstruck by such a simple expression of concern.
Lancelot and Galahad watched Tristan stumble through the disjointed conversations and smiled knowingly at each other. Yes, there was more to Tristan's red face than he was admitting and they both knew it. "Later," mouthed Lancelot and Galahad nodded his agreement. Both men hoped that by the end of the night they would discover what was causing Tristan to be so off center.
For Tristan salvation came, or so he thought, when Arthur entered the room. Arthur warmly welcomed them all as he strode to his seat and on seeing his red faced scout asked innocently, "Tristan are you all right, you look flushed?"
"Yes thank you, Arthur," Tristan quietly replied, as he stared at the table and not at his leader. Desperate to deflect any further attention, he added, "I slept then Arelenne had me."
"Arelenne!" Arthur roared, glaring at the blonde girl staring at the wall.
The other knights by now appreciated that Tristan was somewhat confused, due to his sore head and pain remedies, but Arthur's indignation provided such wonderful entertainment for them all. All, of course, except for Tristan, who was now wishing Arelenne, had just left him asleep.
Tristan frantically tried to diffuse the situation by explaining to Arthur what he really meant, but his voice was barely heard as Arthur harangued Arelenne about her duty to the infirmed and not taking advantage of sleeping friends.
"No. No Arthur," Tristan pleaded, "I meant she helped me. I slept and then she helped me…"
"Arelenne, he was injured for mercy sake man. Couldn't you have waited?" Arthur indignantly asked.
Without looking at Tristan, who was by now completely embarrassed by the entire conversation, Arelenne glared at Arthur and snappily responded to his accusations.
"Arthur, Tristan is a little confused due to his head coming in contact with the hard ground at a fast pace. If you would just listen to the man, he explained, I helped him after he woke up. He has some sore ribs and other minor hurts and a persistent headache, not helped by your shouting, but he will recover. Tristan will tell you himself, he feels better now than he did when we first arrived back at the fort. Come on Arthur, you know what a hit to the head can do. It's just going to take a few days for his thoughts to become clear again, that's all!"
Arthur sighed knowing Arelenne was right but he just felt there was something going on and it obviously troubled Tristan. Tristan was always in control and had had plenty of knocks to the head over the years and yet Arthur had never seen him so self-conscious and unnerved.
Any further discussion was set aside, as Bishop Germanius swept into the room and stared in astonishment at the round table. He quickly hid his distaste at such a radical expression of equality and formally greeted Arthur and the knights. Once seated, he directed his aide, Horton, to share out the fine wine from Rome to the assembled group. Then, in a show of faith, he revealed that he did have their discharge papers but would not hand them out immediately, much to the knight's disappointment. The Bishop then proceeded to solemnly relate the news that the Romans were leaving Britain to the Woads and that a Saxon army had landed to the north and was surging southward.
Such information cut to the core of every knight in the room. They had fought for Rome to maintain this furthest outpost of the Empire and in one brief statement it was all deemed too hard. The Romans no longer saw Britain as viable? How many knights had lost their lives for a cause now deemed unnecessary? The knights rose to their feet as one and demanded an explanation for so many wasted lives and years. Arthur quietened the knights but implored the Bishop to provide some justification for what they had all endured and were now forfeiting in the name of the mighty Roman Empire. However, the Bishop merely announced that he would refrain from releasing the knights until after he had spoken to Arthur alone. Roman to Roman, or so he said.
Arelenne looked at Arthur, raised her goblet and said coolly, "Come. Let's leave Roman business to Romans."
Bors was incensed and was prepared to stand his ground but Dagonet gripped his shoulder saying, "Let it go, Bors."
Accepting his friend's wisdom, Bors stalked from the round table and headed to the tavern. The other knights followed him out, all except for Tristan, who seemed dazed by the turn of events. Arelenne saw that the younger man seemed to be mulling over the situation, and so pulled him by the arm and gently guided him from the room explaining that it would all be resolved soon to everyone's satisfaction.
By the time Arelenne and Tristan reached the tavern, the mood of the knights had lightened considerably. As a group, they briefly discussed what had just happened and determined that the Romans couldn't possibly withhold their discharge as it would be dishonorable to do so and despite other shortcomings the Romans were big on honor. So, armed with that thought, they decided to begin their freedom festivities early.
Tristan followed Gawain and Galahad over to a group of Roman soldiers and village women who were gathered around a nearby table. The three knights amused themselves by taking turns at tossing their knives at a wooden pillar. With every throw, laughter and cheers erupted from the group, as each knight bettered the other. Tristan threw one final time and his knife pierced the end of Galahad's knife.
"Tristan!" shouted Galahad.
"How do you do that?" Gawain asked, amazed at the accuracy of the throw.
Tristan shrugged, took a bite of the apple in his hand and simply explained, "I aim for the middle."
Arelenne watched the scene with pride. In spite of his injuries Tristan seemed to be relaxed. His aim was still accurate and he genuinely seemed to be enjoying himself. Arelenne smiled, as she remembered how Tristan had responded to her touch earlier that day. Tristan was a very responsive lover and Arelenne couldn't wait to continue their lovemaking. Wrapped up in her private thoughts, Arelenne failed to notice that Bors had come to sit with her. Bors followed Arelenne's line of sight and smiled knowingly as he saw that Arelenne was once again staring at Tristan. However, he also realized the look on Arelenne's face was different to usual, this look was hungry. And then it dawned on him.
"You had him!" Bors stated.
Arelenne jolted as she realized she wasn't alone and sighed, now aware that her feelings were obviously on display.
"Not fully," she replied quietly.
"Ah I see you want more and he doesn't?" Bors intoned perceptively.
Arelenne debated whether or not to reveal Tristan's secret and replied, "No he wants it but…,"
"…but he's never been with woman." Bors added.
"No he's never been with anyone," Arelenne whispered conspiratorially.
At this declaration Bors spewed wine in all directions.
"Why not?" Bors spluttered, as he wiped the back of his hand across his face trying to mop up the wine that had run down his chin. "How could he get to his age and not do it? For that matter, how did we not know he hadn't done it?"
"Keep your voice down," Arelenne implored. What could she say? She had watched Tristan for years and she didn't know, so how could the others know? Tristan was simply too good at hiding his feelings and his fears.
Bors was still stunned and said, "I thought we taught him things, you know," said Bors as he gesticulated vaguely with his hand in the air. "Didn't we explain urges and needs and how to deal with them?"
"We did, but it seems he dealt with those urges and needs privately because he didn't want just anyone, he wanted me," Arelenne explained through gritted teeth, as she watched Tristan getting another drink from the bar.
"What? Didn't I tell you, you couldn't look after that child?"
"You did but if memory serves me correctly, I wasn't the one who gave him a cloak or food or told him to listen to me because I would look after him.," Arelenne answered with a wry smile at the memory of their young friend, frightened, wide-eyed and clutching the cloak to him and handing an apple to Arelenne for safekeeping. "Nor was I the one to teach him how to use a bow," she added.
"Oi, you asked me to teach him."
"Yes, basic instruction, but look at him with a bow now, he's you."
"He's better than me." grumbled Bors affectionately.
"Admit it Arelenne you have fancied that lad for a while now?" stated Bors. "Why didn't you just take him years ago, I'm sure he wouldn't have said no."
Arelenne thought about the question carefully and finally explained, "At first he was like a younger brother, someone to teach and guide and care for, but later as he grew into a young man, well it all became something more. One day I just realized he could be a lover. I never acted on it because he never showed any sign of being interested. I never found out until today that he felt the same way about me. If he hadn't fallen and I hadn't caught him, I daresay he would have kept his secret"
"Hmmmph. Well at least we're leaving here so you can work on it, on him. Now is the time for pleasure old friend and you deserve all you can get and so does he. Stupid lad."
Bors lifted his tankard in a friendly salute to his friend but stopped short as he saw the look of sadness that passed over Arelenne's face.
"All right what's your problem? He wants you, you want him and you're both free. What can be so wrong to spoil such a special night and a happy future?"
"He never planned to leave here."
"What? Stay here? Without us? Why?"
Arelenne tried to explain as best as he could. "We are Sarmatians. We come from Sarmatia but when we spoke of returning home to Sarmatia, he knew we were referring to i our /i family, i our /i tribe but he has no family, no tribe, and no home. So he decided to stay here. Alone.'
"Well, we have all thought of staying at one time or another," Bors quietly admitted.
"I know but we have all talked about home too. Some of us may still have family at home. I want to find out and now I have the choice to do so, being a free man."
"Bloody long way to go for a visit," stressed Bors.
"You're missing the point Bors. It's not about whether he leaves or not, it's about how he sees himself. Whether we leave or stay is irrelevant. It's about him being part of our plans, part of our future. He thinks we will abandon him when we leave, but he needs to see that if he stays he's abandoning us. He needs to understand that if he leaves with us he will be welcome in our tribe or any Sarmatian tribe. He's earned that right by his service to Rome and we owe him a home because he is a Sarmatian warrior just like us."
"Tall order my friend. One, he's had plenty of time to think about his future and two, not all tribes accept other tribesman easily."
"Well I plan to convince him to stay with us…"
"With you, you mean!"
"All right I plan to convince him to stay with me and to leave with me when I head home. Come on Bors, if we take him home with Vanora and the children our people will accept all of them. Especially when people hear the tales of his valiant deeds as a knight of the round table."
"Maybe. Somehow I think it will be harder to convince him that he is valued rather than having to convince our people," Bors mused.
"Well we'll both have to work on him and see if we can knock some sense into that tattooed head of his," Arelenne replied.
They both watched Tristan, as he threw his knife again and shared a drink with his friends, and contemplated how to convince the stubborn man that staying with them regardless of where they ended up was the right thing to do.
"Is it safe letting him drink and play with knives with that knock to the head?" Bors asked as he watched Tristan sway slightly.
"Probably not but let him have some fun, after all he hasn't hurt himself or anyone else yet," Arelenne laughed, feeling a little more confident about the future having shared her fears with Bors.
Over the raucous laughter someone asked Vanora to sing. The tavern quietened as she sang a beautiful ballad about returning to a distant home. The knights listened and looked at each other, each knowing how the others felt. As she finished singing, Jols announced that Arthur had arrived.
Arthur would rather have faced an army of rampaging Saxons or attacking Woads than face his men at this moment. The knights at first welcomed him but as he stood there, unsmiling, a chill ran down the spine of each of the six knights.
"Above the wall, there lies a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons," Arthur explained. "Our orders are to secure their safety."
He added that before the knights could be discharged, they had to complete this last mission, north of the wall and through Woad territory. Their mood turned angry and accusations of betrayal were hurled at their leader.
"Let the Romans take care of their own," shouted Bors.
"Our duty to Rome, if it was ever a duty, is done," spat Galahad. "Our pact with Rome is done."
"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you," declared Bors as he pointed at Arthur. "For you. And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours?" he added.
Arthur wearily stated, "Bors, these are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with…"
"I'm a free man! I will choose my own fate!" screamed an incensed Bors.
"Yeah yeah, we're all going to die someday. If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home," said Tristan to no-one in particular.
Galahad moved towards the scout shouting, "Well if you're so eager to die, you can die right here!"
Arelenne intervened, demanding the knights settle down before the situation degenerated into an all out brawl. Galahad continued to glare at Tristan but refrained from further attempts to attack the man. Arelenne, for her part stared at Arthur in disbelief, letting her leader and closest friend know the depths of her anger and betrayal at the turn of events.
Above the shouting Arelenne announced, "The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare." As she started to leave Arelenne turned to Tristan saying, "When you have prepared for tomorrow come to my quarters so I can check your injuries." Without waiting for a reply, she then turned to Bors asking, "Bors, you coming?"
"Of course I'm coming! Can't let you go on your own; you'll all get killed!" announced the exasperated knight.
As Tristan left the tavern he heard Arthur ask Gawain whether he would accompany them on the mission and was relieved to hear that not only would Gawain be there but Galahad also. Lancelot hadn't committed himself but Tristan was certain if everyone else was going, Lancelot would be there too. Comforted by the thought that they would face this last mission together, Tristan headed to his quarters to prepare for the risky trip.
As he prepared, concerns for the mission were pushed aside as Tristan's thoughts strayed to his day with Arelenne. The more he thought about what they had done, the harder he became. He shook his head in dismay as he remembered how needy he must have sounded as he begged Arelenne to help him. How wanton he was when he screamed at the top of his voice as he came. In fact he didn't even utter a sound when Arelenne kissed him saying, "Taste yourself." He moaned now, at that memory and rubbed his hand over his rigid cloth covered cock.
Tristan sat on his bed and thought about his situation, especially the fact that he had told Arelenne he was a virgin. Well, yes he was a virgin by some people's standards, but he was reasonably certain that virginity was simply a state of mind, or at the very least a state of undress with someone who wants you that way. After all, he thought about doing it often. Indeed, he woke every day with a hard cock and wasted no time in dealing with his morning stiffness. So, he reasoned, he wasn't a virgin because he took himself in hand at every opportunity. A few years back a Roman soldier had led him to the stable and began touching him, but the man had to go on duty and left Tristan feeling hard and frustrated. However, that brief encounter had given him some experience he reasoned, enough to move him from virgin status to experienced partner. Another time, he had tried to do it with a girl, but other than a few roving hands they hadn't got much further because she was too drunk and fell asleep. Still, he had wanted to do it, and was going to do it, but it just didn't happen. So from his perspective wanting it and almost doing it meant that really he wasn't a virgin. Virgins know nothing; he knew lots of things about what he was supposed to do. And yet here he was telling his friend that he was a virgin. What a fool he was. Virgin indeed!
Tristan finished his preparations for the mission and then made his way to Arelenne's quarters. He knew what he had to do. He knocked on the door and entered when Arelenne called him. Standing in the centre of the room he looked at Arelenne and with fierce determination declared, "I am not a virgin!"
Arthur often sought solitude in the stable. There he could attend to his horse and think without interruption or argument. There in the quiet, surrounded by the heady scent of leather, he would work off pent up emotions as he washed down his horse and maintained his tack. There he would sit on a hay bale and polish emblems and stirrups, oil the leather of the saddle, and ensure everything worked perfectly from bridle to bit. There he felt close to God and there he would pray when the days had been hard and a sleepless night awaited him.
"O merciful God, I have such need of Your mercy now. Not for myself, but for my knights, for this is truly their hour of need. Deliver them from their trials ahead and I will pay You a thousand fold with any sacrifice You ask of me. And if in Your wisdom, You should determine that sacrifice must be my life for theirs; so that they can once again taste the freedom that is so long been denied to them, I will gladly make that covenant. My death will have a purpose. I ask no more than that."
"Why do you always talk to God and not to me? " Arelenne asked, coming from the darkened corner of the stable. "Pray to whomever you pray that we don't cross the Saxons. "My faith is what protects me, Lady Arelenne. Why do you challenge this?" he snapped "I don't like anything that puts a man on his knees." She replied, leaning on a wooded pillar
"No man fears to kneel before the God he trusts. Without faith, without belief in something, what are we?" Arthur replied, walking closer.
"To try and get past the Woads in the north is insanity!" Arelenne replied heatedly"Them, we've fought before."
"Not north of the Wall!" Arelenne replied then paused "How many Saxons? Hmm? How many?"Arelenne leaned against the saddle rack and looked Arthur straight in his dark blue eyes "Tell me. Do you believe in this mission?" she asked
"These people need our help. It is out duty to bring-" Arthur began but Arelenne cut him off."I don't care about your charge. And I don't give a damn about Romans, Britain, or this island. If you desire to spend eternity in this place, Arthur, then so be it. But suicide cannot be chosen for another-!" "AND YET YOU CHOOSE DEATH FOR THIS FAMILY!""NO, I CHOOSE LIFE AND FREEDOM FOR MYSELF AND THE MEN!"
Arelenne sat down on a bench in front of her Clydesdale,
Xavier's, stall. She put her head in her hands and let out a long
sigh. Arthur came and sat beside her, putting a comforting arm around
her shoulders."How many times in battle have we snatched
victory from the jaws of defeat? Outnumbered, outflanked, but still
we triumph? With you at my side, we can do so again.
Lancelot, we
are knights. What other purpose do we serve if not for such a
cause?"
Arelenne looked up and shook her head "Arthur, you fight for a world that will never exist. Never. There will always be a battlefield."
Arelenne's face was suddenly so close to Arthur's, Arthur could see every flick of grey in her eyes, every eyelash above her bright eyes. "I will die in battle. Of that I'm certain. Now hopefully, a battle of my choosing. But, if it be this one, grant me a favor: don't bury me in our sad little cemetery. Burn me. Burn me, and cast my ashes to a strong east wind."
Arthur let out a heavy sigh "Arelenne," he whispered and pressed his lips against hers, the kiss soft and innocent. Arelenne pulled away with a slight smile and left.
