Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character names, save my own original creations. I do not wish to be compensated for this work, nor do I wish to infringe on any copyrights held by any stakeholders of the movie King Arthur. This work is an original creation, based on the legend of King Arthur and his knights.


Scribe Notes:

All: Sorry for the delay in posting! I just spent the most wonderful weekend in Prince Edward County, here in Ontario, Canada. I discovered a winery there (it's a grape region) was holding a medieval joust, so I had to go! It was quite fun, and they played the King Arthur soundtrack while performing their display of knightly bravery, much to my delight! That plus wine, I was a happy happy girl. So, I came home Sunday night much relaxed, and realized I hadn't posted for almost a week! Alright, on to comments:

et cetera et cetera: I forgot you last time and I am sorry! I am glad you enjoy the way I let emotions show, I am hoping I have improved that aspect of my character development. Brinn is very endearing, he really did become more of this story than I thought he would!

lilstrummrgrl527: Yes, I would have too, but Cerys handled it well I think. I remember not knowing what to say or do when my first fiancee knelt down. I can remember hauling him up and kissing him before saying anything. We were young, it was a heady time. Marriage is not taken lightly back then, but this is a romance and I can have it any way I want. I cannot wait for that chapter, I haven't written it yet. Some things have to happen first!

Sokorra Lewis: I like smilies but, as a technical writer, use the (grin) instead. I find smilies don't stand out enough in my writing style. Ech... I'm a freak, what can I say. I have started a new fic, still working the details, it's called Dust Devils, and I think you will find some familiar rings to a bit of it. (BIG grin and wink) I will post it soon.

Calliann: Thank you for reviewing it! I found your new fic and hopefully you got my reviews. It's great! I thought the pins would be a better proposal gift than a ring. They meant so much to Lancelot when Rhia gave them to him, so they hold much symbolism for the two of them together.

Ailis-70: In reality, I could have put anothe chapter in there, but it would have been filler, so I skipped forward. Truth, a month in to a relationship isn't much time before he shoves all his damned stuff into her rooms, but, as you said they do have a history together and it makes it easier. He also hated his own rooms, and was there every night anyways.

Lancelot is a clotheshorse! I noticed in the movie he has quite afew fancy outfits compared to the others. He seems to have done well for himself being a slave, and perhaps a second in command. In truth, I bet he would have been one of those men who took advantage of all the shaving services of the Roman bath servants, if you know what I mean (wink). he was a bit vain in a lot of hte legends, so that stands to reason that his armour, tunics and doublets would be perfect, and numerous.

I am glad you see a bit of you in Cerys. She has a bit of me in her too! I wanted to make her a believable woman, and a woman that others could identify with. It's so important in a heroine to be able to let your main readers feel as if they could be her. I learned that from a workshop with a romance author. One of those golden crumbs you hang on to.

Gawain isn't ready to leave his brother yet, but is his brother ready to move on from him? Now that Dory is in the picture, things could get pushed along a bit.

I wanted Cerys to see a woman that she found important in her life, to mirror the "magic" that the other men saw. So, I thought of who would be important to her and came up with her mother who perished with Arthurs mother in the fire. It made sense.

Burnt Alice: I could, I know! But I still have to tie up loose ends like Gawain and Brinn and Tristan and Wynn. Gah! I do have an end in sight but not yet. I like reflective, and this chapter is just that so I hope that it conveys the same effect you have seen in previous chapters. thank you for your kind words, as always.

LovelyHeidi: Thanks! I am glad it touched you! I was a big mushy pile of "awww" when I finished it. (grin)

gwenn0: The other meaning of the inscription is that knight (Lancelot) and his lover (Cerys) are now one with his proposal. Hence how he saw it with half his lion showing, and half her face when she had the pins in her hair.

I originally wanted to give the room to Gawain and have Brinn move in with him. but I thought that might be a bit wierd since Gawain has issues with his sleeping. I will give Gawain an interesting dilemma soon though.

Babaksmiles: Oh you! A bundle would be lovely, but wouldn't that just give Lancelot the "deer in the headlights" look? Precious! Thank you for your kind wish. I do too! Someday it may happen, but I'm not holding my breath (grin).

Lady11Occult: Hey! Thanks! I like that you see insight in my characters, its something I was striving to improve with this first foray. I am so glad you found my story and I hope you continue to enjoy!

History2: YAY! I am so glad you reviewed I have been waiting excitedly for your next one. So glad you thought the sex scenes were tasteful. They were not easy to write, but wow was it ever fun at the same time! I am glad you saw humour in Bors little "plan". I thought Bors would be best for that since he would have the perfect excuse to bring Brinn in with those kids. And Bors knows how to get kids to do things since he has had lots of practice. In truth, he's kind of a big kid himself, that is one of the sides of him I see and feel. Hence his love for them, and his ability to relate to them. Ray Winstone did such a good job with him, giving him that horribly crass man with a heart of gold. I see an ex-boyfriend in him, and it brings a smile to my face whenever I watch the movie. I remember the good times with that man, which were a good time in my life. Remembering is good for the soul, helps us to centre ourselves.

I'm glad you liked the ending of the last chapter! It felt right. the next one was fun, and I really hope you enjoy, I laughed so hard when I was writing it I had to stop as I saw and daydreamed it. I hope you laugh too!

And yes, there are a few more chapters to go, don't worry!

And yes, if you want to write, then write! Let your soul fly free and create! I would love to see your writing. You have such insight into mine, I bet your characters would be stunning. You have my encouragement if you ever decide to.


Chapter 43: Fresh Memories

Gawain picked up his bow and looked to the broken string. He cursed under his breath.

"It's just a string." Galahad said as they walked back towards the horses.

"If not for that string I could have gotten that damned turkey vulture."

Galahad clapped his brother on the back and moved ahead. The rest of the hunting party had already made it back to the horses. Cerys was pulling out some food from her horses packs, Tris­tan was sitting with his back to a tree, calmly slicing away at an apple.

Perceval waved as they came closer.

"Too bad about the string." He said amiably as they reached the group. "But we got him any­ways from out spot. Not a bad start to the day!"

Cerys smiled as she listened to the men banter. The weather had finally turned warmer and they had been able to get out for a hunt. She could see the tips of the brown frozen grass breaking through the snowdrifts in the edge of the forest, and the buds on the bramble bushes. The air was sweeter.

It always gave her energy, Spring. She settled her back down beside Tristan at the tree and opened her lunch. Tristan, seeing a fresh bit of bread, stole it from her as she looked away.

She had not been fast enough to slap his hand, and instead she had pulled one of his braids and called him a thief. He had smiled as he bit into the bread, and they had settled to happy silence, chewing and watching.

Now even more so was Spring causing her to jump about. She was to be married at the Spring Equinox, and that was in two weeks time! Guinevere and Lorina had been fussing over details since they had announced, and Cerys was ready to scream. She had not realized it would be such an affair, and she had lamented to Lancelot that she wished to run away to anywhere and marry in secret, and avoid this pomp completely.

He had laughed, kissed her and told her to enjoy it, for it would only ever happen once.

She was happy that he felt so confident in the proceedings, for all he had to do was show up.

She was excited, but was wishing she could make her own arrangements. Arthur had wanted a Christian ceremony; Guinevere was warring with him over it, saying that a druid should perform the rites. It did not help that Guinevere was fuelled by her hormones, and would send Arthur out into the hallways many an evening with her screams and flinging of books at the wall.

He would find his way to the common and spend time with the men. He was losing money at knucklebone on a regular basis now, but he seemed to not mind. It seemed that a winter contem­plating fatherhood had relaxed him.

Lancelot was in incredible humour, as he got to spend more time with his friend, and they en­joyed their evenings drinking and gambling together. Cerys was glad for her cousin and her love to be so happy, and she enjoyed watching them when she was with them. They were good friends, and this past winter had given them a chance to re-bond with one another.

Since becoming king, Arthur had really been quite busy.

Just that past evening, after Cerys had retired, she had opened the door first to hear, and then to see Lancelot and Arthur, arm in arm, completely sodden with drink. Lancelot was singing a song about a barmaid with blue eyes and other such attributes, Arthur was trying to keep up, catching every few words or so, raising his head to echo Lancelot, then letting it hang again. Unfortunately, the word he was choosing to catch more often than not was "breast". Their song echoed off the stone walls, and brought Perceval's head out of his own room.

They were staggering along the apartment's alleyway, stumbling against the wall, righting them­selves and continuing on. Cerys stood, her arms crossed, trying desperately, and failing miser­ably, not to laugh at the scene unfolding in front of her. Perceval saw her, winked, and walked out to join the two drunkards, swaggering like a conqueror with his arms out, his own voice join­ing the two staggering fools.

Lancelot had spotted her by this point and had veered himself and Arthur towards the door. Per­ceval met them there, and the three of them proceeded to sing the song loudly, Perceval on his knees, his arms outstretched towards Cerys, serenading "the lovely maiden with eyes and breast so fair".

She supposed it was fortunate that all Arthur could get out was "breast". He was, normally, a horrific singer.

Not that the other two were doing it any justice.

Arthur had spent the night on their floor by the hearth, snoring, Lancelot passed out on the bed beside her, his own snoring just as loud. She had buried her head in her furs and laughed herself to sleep.

Cerys, in the morning, had informed Guinevere of where he had spent the night, and recounted the tale. It had given them both a good giggle, and produced much teasing for a hung over Arthur when he made his way to his own rooms later on, holding his head with his hands.

Both Lancelot and Arthur had decided to forego hunting, and were nursing pounding heads and stomachs that would not accept food.

Cerys giggled to herself as she remembered the sight, and Tristan turned to her with a question­ing look.

"You are happy."

She nodded and patted his thigh. She was happy. She looked at Tristan. He looked different too.

"You are also."

He nodded, and put his last bite of bread down on the ground beside him.

Isaac made a noise, and hopped over from where he was sitting, pecking at the bread. Cerys made a twittering noise, and he hopped further over and pecked at the apple core she held out. He then hopped to her thigh, his talons digging into the leather, and made happy noises as he plucked what remained out of her hand.

"You will make my bird too fat to fly."

Cerys laughed, and Isaac made a noise to agree with her that it was indeed silly to think that he could get fat. The hawk stepped off her leg and settled on Tristan's leg, swivelling his head, standing sentry.

"Tell me why you are happy Tristan." Cerys said suddenly. She knew that she didn't want to prod him, but she felt he was relaxed, and would perhaps tell her. He took breath to speak but was interrupted by Gawain.

"Tristan is never happy." Gawain said as he settled down in front of them, crossing his legs and munching on some dried meat. He grimaced in jest to Tristan, who simply grunted and looked out past the man.

The moment lost, Cerys reached out and pulled one of Gawain's long blonde locks.

"Be careful or he will come and cut your hair in the night and then you really will look like a man."

Gawain swiped at her hand. Isaac, not enjoying the new sounds around him, flew up into the tree.

"Don't give him ideas."

Tristan rose from his seat, brushing crumbs off his tunic. He gave Cerys a wink and wandered over towards Sky. Gawain immediately took his place, an arm going around Cerys, and the silent eating began anew. Cerys leaned into her friends embrace, and watched a breeze fling the grey branches of an oak tree about. Soon, they would be able to hear the leaves rustle as the breeze blew through them.

She closed her eyes and relaxed in the warmth.

Soon she would be a wife.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Tristan poked in his saddle bags.

Happy? He supposed so.

He could still feel Wynn's hand on his arm. He could still hear her laughter when he had swung her out into a dance in front of the fire. It was weeks ago, his last visit, and was still fresh in his memory. Every night he would think of her red hair, swinging, the firelight giving it such a glow.

He liked red hair, always had.

He thought then to the last time he had ridden in, after leaving the fort. He stilled beside Sky as his thoughts turned to that night.

He had stopped briefly by Hywel's shop and Hywel had sold him a bronze cloak pin. It had a stag on it. Hywel said that it was one of Lancelot's latest creations.

Lancelot could be such a woman with his romantic notions, but he admired the work. He was almost as good as Sabin had been.

Wynn would like it.

She had, in fact, loved it, and had flung her arms around his neck, laughing. She had made him pin it on her cloak then and there.

He remembered that his hands shook.

Later that night, he remembered lieing beside her in her hut, tracing a finger up her arm as she lay quietly beside him. She was watching him. She always watched him.

He loved that about her.

"Why did you bring me a gift Tristan?"

"I wanted to."

He wasn't sure why. He blamed Arthur for putting the thought in his head.

She accepted that answer was all he would give, and had reached out then, kissed him gently.

Tristan had gathered her into his arms and held her, his own heart racing. He was not quite sure what to do. He remembered that at that point, she had begun kissing his neck, and he lost all thought except the need that had risen in him.

He cleared his throat as he looked up from his horse. He should not be remembering such things now. He twittered to Isaac, and the bird flew down to perch on his saddle.

Spring meant change, he mused.

The rest of the party was checking tack and swinging into their saddles. He shook the thoughts of her away and mounted up.

"Shall we be away home?" Perceval asked, pulling Apollo up beside Sky.

"Yes. Storm coming in." Tristan pointed to the black clouds rolling in from the east.

They made their way through the field, and once out onto the road, galloped off, Tristan flinging Isaac into the sky as they began.

He felt the wind in his hair and he heard Cerys' happy laughter as she urged her mare up beside him. The small chestnut was drumming along, ears forward, happy for the outing. He flicked a glance on his other side, Galahad flying along on Terryn, his head held low to the horses mane.

"A race?" Galahad asked, as the horses had matched strides, the three abreast now.

Tristan cocked an eyebrow and turned to look behind him. Gawain and Perceval were just be­hind, languishing in the saddle as they galloped, looking about. He nodded his head back to them.

'They'll catch up." Galahad replied.

Tristan put boots to Sky, and off they shot. He knew that his horse could outpace Cerys' little mare, and he looked to make sure she could handle the sudden burst forward.

Cerys laughed and tucked in behind he and Galahad as the two of them matched their horses along the road.

It felt good to gallop. He focused forward and leaned in low over the saddle. He could feel Sky's mane brushing his face, could hear the pounding hooves, the rhythmic snorting. He could see the landscape fly by from the corner of his eye, a blur of brown, white and grey.

He loved flying like this. He could think of no other feeling that equalled it.

As he rounded a bend, he realized that, yes, he could.

Wynn made him feel this way.

With a shout so uncharacteristic of him, he smiled wide and urged Sky forward. Galahad grinned widely as well, the race now won, and pulled back to ride abreast with Cerys.

"He's happy." He said, as they watched the grey rump of Sky disappear up the road.


Dear Reader:

Ahh... back to gallops to bring the word into crystal clarity. Tristan just figured it out. he may have started before, realizing that he loved the woman, but... in a moment one can figure it out. He just realized he was in love, in his own way!

I hope you have enjoyed the different viewpoints I have started to wind in, with Tristan, Brinn, Arthur. I still want to focus on Cerys and Lancelot, but now that I know the others well enough, I thought it would be fun to branch out! Please do let me know if you find it a bit wierd or detracting from the story thus far. My next idea is to try Gawain, Galahad, Bors, the rest of them. Do you think it would be too many different thought-views?

Thank you for your patience as I waited a week to post! I appreciate your reviews and look forward to them with each chapter.

Cardeia