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: When I read some of the reviews I got for these past two chapters I had happy tears. I can see the end of this story now, and its exciting, and sad at the same time. Thank you for believing in my characters human-ness as I do, and understanding them the way you do.

Sarita04: I missed you last time! Thank you for your review! I am glad you likedthe symbolism and the way it worked for Gawain.

ElvenStar5: Thanks! Its hard to feel emotions you have never felt, but I try to imagine based on what I saw. It makes me happy to know I did manage to portray the emotions to show what I wanted. I am growing as a writer, I think. You help with your reviews, helps me to know I am going in the right direction. Yahoo!

Calliann: Hey! So glad you liked them coming together as a family. You will like a bit in this chapter too then (wink). Despite the sadness in the chapters, it was interesting to write that, knowing how each of them feels about their role (Cerys as mom, Brinn thinking Lancelot is dad, Lancelot sort of understanding that Brinn may be like a son).

It is satisfying for me to write that, it brings happiness in a sad part of the story, when they bury Gareth. Grief brings emotions out, but also brings people together. In these times, we remember what is most important, and sometimes that leads to new beginnings, all the while celebrating an end of something else.

Melosine: I was wondering if anyone would catch that "Cerys-ism". Glad it was you! I am really happy you liked the emotions in the chapter. This one is a bit lighter, to balance it out. I think I caught my Tristan in his new-found world well, it felt right, but you never know. I rely on my Tristan experts Calliann, Ailis-70 and you to tell me otherwise, you know. (grin).

Ailis-70: I think you are a wonderful reviewer as well. You prompt me, poke me and nudge me towards new and exciting ideas, to reflect on old ideas, to think about the deeper meaning behind my story. I sometimes just write a story, I don't purposely put things in to make people think. its after the fact that I look back and go "Hey! Wow... cool.. never thought of it that way." You are one of the people that puts it out there for me to see.

Thank you for that.

Yes, Brinn is growing a bit, and I tried to give him a bit more maturity, but at the same time hold onto the noble beliefs that knights are all-seeing, all-strong and invincible. That is important, since it is why he wants to be a knight. He wants to be the strong and noble knight to take care of those he loves, and be able to take care of himself.

plzkthx101:Gawain. He's an interesting one. I saw such bitterness in him in the movie that he really cried out to be a wounded mind here. I have another story started, and this time, no woundings, he takes on a different role. Dust Devils is still in evolution, but rest assured, he is there, and he is happier. And yes, he has long hair, I couldn't take that away from him if I tried.

Thank you for your insightful words. I am so very glad you can see emotion and human nature in my characters. It means I have succeeded on some level! That, above all else, gives me courage to keep going.

Agony and pain is how we understand what health and happiness is. When we hurt, it is hard, but when it is over, it helps us to become better people.

lilstrumrgrl527: Thank you. The procession scene was crystal clear in my mind, and it wrote itself so easily. I could see the lanterns bobbing and weaving, the bodies outlined by them as they walked. I could almost heaer the silence of the men, the sad faces on the women. Some of the women didn't know Gareth, but they feel the pain of their men and that is enough to cause grief of their own.

Sokorra Lewis: I'm sorry for your loss, and I hope that the happy memories of your friends brings a smile to your face as you honour them. Memories are our legacy, and it is important to think back to them in order to help grieve and heal.

gwenn0:He started out as an extra, but I always wanted to develop his relationship to Lancelot. He was originally goingot be one of Bors' children, but then I changed my mind when I realized that Cerys needed someone, and Lancelot was away. He fit the bill perfectly.

Lancelot would be a ladie's man, and a brilliant one at that. But, he would probably be one of those guys who, once they found their girl, it would be passionate and happy. In Dust Devils, he is more of what I think he would be if in our own age. I hope that I don't sneak too much of Ioan into him, and he stays Lancelot. It's on my "mantra" sheet posted on the wall in my room. I keep a set of them for each story to remember. For this one it was "Do not use the word "OK", and always say "Gods", not "God". (grin) I am an orgainzational freak, so whenever I start a new story I keep a list of all characters, their associated animals, and pairings if any. then, I keep all writing that gets cut. Oi, I even scare myself sometimes (Big Grin)

On to the chapter! Thanks to everyone!


Chapter 56: New Faces

"Rider's approaching!" The gate guard yelled.

Arthur looked up from fiddling with a new set of vambraces he was trying out in the armoury. He glanced at the late afternoon sun. Ahh, it was about time. He was due back now. And he had done what he said he was going to do. He strode out of the armoury practice field, Lancelot on his heel, dropping his swords near his scabbards as they left. Both of them were stiff, but despite each of their women's pleadings, they were in the armoury to work.

Lancelot figured they were both stubborn fools, but they needed to do something to keep their minds occupied. He planned on spending the afternoon in the shop with Hywel.

"Riders" Arthur said, a bemused grin on his face as they locked steps towards the stable.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow. "You know something I don't?"

Arthur chuckled. "Think about it. Rider-S." He said, emphasising the S in the word.

Lancelot looked confused for a moment and then it dawned on him. Tristan was due back now and he had taken Cei with him.

"No kidding." He said slowly as they rounded the corner. They could hear the inner compound doors scrape open as they got to the stable yard. Jols had come out, wiping his hands on a rag, Brinn right behind him, his face smudged with dirt. They both looked to Arthur.

"Riders, Arthur?" He queried, a smile on his face. Arthur nodded to him.

"Brinn, see about getting Cei and Sky's stalls topped with some water, eh?" Jols said as he turned to the young boy. Brinn nodded and dashed off, but not before nodding to Lancelot and giving him a grin.

"Does he know too?" Lancelot asked, propping himself on the hitching post out front of the doorway.

"It would be hard not to figure it out, when he took a ladies mount instead of Prynawn." Arthur replied, he too leaning to mirror Lancelot's posture. They looked at each other and began to laugh. Arthur slapped Lancelot's shoulder.

"Won't matter for much now, will it?" Lancelot said through his laughter, his grin wide. He was happy for Tristan. It was about bloody time. She would be here for the Spring Equinox festivi­ties, and he would be able to have Cerys back as a dance partner.

He realized that the Spring Equinox was his wedding. He had better have her back to dance with! He sighed at his own ridiculousness.

"I hope the women like her." Arthur said.

Lancelot stopped and listened, holding up his hand. He could hear more than two horses. There was a wagon with them. What did she do, bring her whole hut with her? He turned to Arthur, whose face told him he heard the wheels on the gravel as well.

"A wagon?" Jols said, his own face confused. He turned to trot back into the stables. "Brinn, ready the extra stall in the corner would you..."

The group rounded the corner by the kitchens, some children running behind a simple twig sided wagon, pulled one of the oldest moor ponies Lancelot had ever seen. He blinked. Behind the wagon Cei was trailing along, her reins tied to the back. The mare looked entirely bored with the snails pace of the wagon.

But in the wagon was what surprised him more.

Wynn, her red hair flying about in the breeze stood with her hands on the lines, her smile and eyes tilted towards Tristan who rode in beside them. Seated beside her, her cloak pulled up around her face, her hands folded into her lap, was Rhia.

"Rhia." Lancelot breathed to Arthur as they pulled into the yard. "Tristan bloody well brought Rhia back with him."

Both men leapt forward to help stop the moor pony, who had the idea that he could march straight into the stables with his cargo, despite Wynn pulling with all her might to stop, cursing at the pony. Lancelot held the small thing's head while Arthur helped the old woman down. He was misty-eyed as he held Rhia's hand and she gazed up at him, his smile evident that he was pleased to see her.

"Young man, you have gotten much too big!" She said, her voice cracking. Arthur bent down and enfolded her in a hug. She patted his back as he let her go. "The image of your father."

They chatted as he held her hand. Lancelot thought that it was good she was here. He wanted to show her some of the things he had done in the shop. For some reason, he was anxious about that.

The pony bit Lancelot's arm. "Brat!" He yelped and raised his hand to slap at it, but Brinn pulled the reins out of his hands.

"I'll take him, Da'." He said.

Lancelot stepped back and then stopped. He blinked.

Da'? Had the boy even realized what he just said? Brinn was busily unhooking the pony from the wagon, the small furry beast now plac­idly chewing on the edge of his tunic. Brinn prattled on at him.

"Now, now... You can eat in a moment." He chastised, pulling it out of the pony's mouth.

The pony sighed and rested a back foot, going to sleep. Jols looked painfully towards it, Cei and Sky's reins in his hands.

"Bloody useless that thing is." He muttered under his breath to Lancelot as he passed. Lancelot chuckled.

"No doubt."

What use did knights have with a moor pony? He supposed they could shave it and use the fur to re-stuff the saddles. Damned things were unbelievably shaggy. He wondered how it could see out its huge thick forest of a forelock. He watched Brinn push up the forelock and look into the pony's eye.

"What's your name then?" He asked. The pony nickered. Lancelot shook his head. Brinn had a way with horses, even small furry ones with horrid attitudes and sharp teeth. He rubbed his arm.

That would bruise. Bloody thing...

"His name is Eros." Wynn called as she stepped off the back of the wagon, her voice light, a hint of humour in it.

For some reason that made Arthur laugh uncontrollably as Tristan helped Wynn off the back of the wagon. Lancelot would have to ask him why that would be so funny.

He twisted his mouth about and scratched his head as he watched Brinn lead the pony into the stable. His mind turned back to the boy. Brinn had called him... well, he had called him father.

It wasn't so bad, really. He smiled.

Wynn was now standing beside Tristan, Tristan's arm around her, relaxed and slightly smiling. Arthur had made his way over to her and Tristan had introduced her to him. Arthur looked en­thralled, and raised her hand to kiss the knuckles. Wynn blushed scarlet.

Tristan was going to have his hands full with her here, he mused. She was pretty, it wouldn't go unnoticed.

Rhia shuffled over to where Lancelot was standing. He blinked and bowed to her as she reached him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"So, knight, did you see?" She asked, gratefully leaning on him, her eyes twinkling. He slowly walked her over to an upturned mounting stump and she sat.

He nodded, crouching down beside her. "I did. I never got to thank you."

She patted his arm. "Did she like them?"

"Yes, very much." He said, the remembered what he wanted to ask her. "Tell me, why does everyone who looks at those pins see someone different? Arthur saw his wife, Galahad saw his lover, and well, Cerys, she saw... well, she saw her mother."

Rhia nodded, her eyes crinkling as she smiled. She leaned back a bit, and sighed happily as she readjusted her legs out in front of her. She pondered it a moment.

"Love lets you see what you want to see, when you are ready." she said, winking at him.

He smiled then too, understanding that she was not going to let him in on it any more than that. She glanced about her, a soft look on her face then, remembering.

"This place has not changed much since I was here last. Would you be a kind young man and help an old woman up?"

Lancelot helped her stand. She looked about once more. "I would like to peek in and visit with Dafydd, is he still here?"

"I am." A voice from behind them said.

Lancelot and Rhia turned to see Dafydd standing, his eyes bright, his smile wide, his arms wid­er.

"Rhia, you are such a surprise to see, and a welcome one at that!" He exclaimed and walked up to her. She laughed, he old voice cracking more. Dafydd enfolded her in a hug.

"Dafydd, you are still as handsome as ever."

They laughed and chatted a few more moments. Rhia turned to look at Lancelot, and he smiled at her again. She looked very happy.

"Tell Cerys I expect to have a visit with her soon." She said, and patted his arm one more time.

Lancelot could only nod as Dafydd and Rhia walked away, laughing and talking. Old friends who had been apart for a long time, he thought. Cerys would be happy, she always worried about him. He had been lonely since his wife had died.

He turned back to Tristan and Wynn, who were unloading things from the wagon.

"It's good to see you again Lancelot." Wynn said as he reached the back of the wagon and hoist­ed a small chest onto the ground.

"And you. Welcome to..." He stopped. What was this place called now? It was, before the Ro­mans left, called West Stop, but no one ever referred to it as such anymore. It was just "the Wall" or "The Fort".

"What do we call this place now Arthur?"

Arthur shrugged. "I suppose we should come up with a name, eh? Not really West Stop anymore is it."

The group laughed as they hoisted baggage and set off towards Tristan's rooms. It seemed ri­diculous that by now, after all these years, they would not have named the fort where the King lived.

Some things, Lancelot reflected as they walked, were forgotten about when a people was at war.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Tristan watched the firelight from the wall torches glance off Wynn's face as he escorted her to the hall to meet everyone. He was nervous, which was new. He was never nervous before, not like this.

He needed a drink badly. A drink, and something to eat. He growled very quietly to him­self. He patted his tunics for an apple, but came up empty.

Bloody Arthur setting a gathering to welcome Rhia and Wynn to the fort. He just wanted to take her back to his rooms and be alone with her.

"Tristan, stop fretting. Your lip is not meant to be chewed such." She whispered in his ear as they made their way.

He felt her hand give his arm a squeeze, and heard tinkling laughter as he grunted. He saw red hair flung about as she looked at him.

"I am looking forward to meeting everyone, including your Cerys." She added, giving him a wink.

He nodded and stopped just before they entered the doorway. She looked at him, confused. "What is it?"

"Only Lancelot and Arthur know about you." He said quietly. "I don't share my coming and goings with others."

She understood and gave him a resigned look. "I am sure they all do know about me now. You know that rumour spreads faster than fire in a place such as this."

Her smile made him relax. She would be fine, and he knew this would make her happy, meeting everyone. He saw her reach out with her other hand and pull at one of his braids. He caught her hand, and they stood for a moment more, her soft eyes following his as he read her face. He ran a thumb over her hand, which she had left grasped on the braid.

"Why?" He whispered.

He was having doubts that she would want to be here with him, once she got an idea of what it entailed. She was used to the open moor, close to the sea, fresh air, birds...

Not stone walls and forests. Not halls with huge tables and rowdy knights.

He still wasn't sure he could give her the kind of life she needed. He had never doubted himself before he had met her, and here he was, the fierce warrior, worried about a woman's happiness. He was being... what had Lancelot called himself that time? A milksop something-or-other...

He looked into her eyes and tried to see what she was thinking. How could a woman make him feel so free, yet so bloody confused at the same time? He sighed and looked away.

The whole place would be out tonight to meet this elusive girl that he had brought back. He knew he was going to get teased about this one for some time to come.

He would kill Bors if he even so much as made one joke about how much she looked like Lorina, with her russet hair.

She stepped forward towards him and made an exasperated noise in her throat, it bringing his eyes back to her. She grabbed another braid with her other hand and pulled him forward, locking him into a kiss. His arms came out around her shoulders, pulling her into him. She curled herself up against him and he possessively held her tighter, deepening his kiss. She smelled of fresh air and lavender, from the soap she used at the baths.

She had been wide-eyed when he brought her there, and she had loved it.

He knew she would.

She had even relented to let him wash her hair, something he had always wanted to do. He could still hear her laughter in his head as she had splashed water everywhere, after he had let her dunk him. He wanted to hold onto that sound forever. Laughter was something he heard so often with his companions, but it never sounded that... pure.

He breathed in again and caught more of her scent. He would have to bother Cerys to get some more for her. He would figure out how to bloody make it if he needed to!

It was making his head spin.

Tristan did not like being out of control, and he realized with a start that right now he was. It was scary and heady all at the same time, and he consciously stretched his hearing out to regain his bearings.

Control, dammit! He gripped her harder as she broke the kiss from him and burrowed her nose into the crook of his neck.

He was going soft in the head, he was in love, and he was about to admit it to everyone in that hall. Somehow, with her kissing him, and his thoughts falling into disarray as she did so, he didn't care anymore.

Bugger it all, let them be a spectacle.

She parted from him again. "Does that answer your question?"

A small smile came across his face. "I think so."

Footsteps echoed behind them. Tristan recognized them as Arthur's even before he had rounded the corner.

"Arthur." He said as the man stopped beside them.

"Tristan, Wynn. Ready to meet the throng?" Arthur said with a chuckle. He looked at Tristan and Tristan looked back at him.

"I'm glad you are here Wynn. We have been waiting for you for a long time." Arthur said, never taking his eyes away from Tristan's face.

Tristan held a hand out, and Arthur shook it, silently communicating. She was accepted.

With his other hand, Arthur beckoned them further towards the doorway. Wynn gave a beaming smile, and unceremoniously tugged Tristan by the hand past Arthur and into the hall, Tristan nearly tripping to keep up.

As he passed Arthur, he gave a panicked look, and Arthur had to stop and compose him­self, it made him laugh so.

Tristan was most definitely going to have his hands full with this one, he thought as he followed them in.


Dear Reader:

Looks like Lancelot is not the king of Freudian slips anymore eh? I remember in second grade I slipped once and called my teacher mom. It was so embarrasing, but she was such a matronly figure to me that it made sense to my young mind. She patted me on the head and said thank you. She got it, I get it now too. Brinn has a father, and its natural for him to call lancelot Da'. especially after their emotional reunion at the graveyard. Lancelot is openign himself up to teh boy, and understands that Brinn is more than squire to him, and he sees the connection with Cerys. Family is beautiful, and Brinn just solidified it.

Now, Tristan finally closedthe door on his guarded self, and is ready to be with Wynn, and let the rest of his world see the real him. He's still the alert scout, he's still the silent type, but now he is not going to hold himself back from being with people that, despite his aloof nature, he really does care about. He's a big strong manly man, and hes good at what he does, killing and fighting. But, just like Lancelot, he can see past it now. And what he sees, well, its Wynn!

And did anyone get the joke about Eros? I hope so, it made me laugh like mad when I wrote it.

Here is to your own life experiences giving you a chance to write something that makes you laugh. Doesn't matter if anyone else finds it funny, if you laughed, then it did its job. Laughter keeps us healthy, as does following our muses onto the paper with our pens.

Cardeia