KnightMaiden; LANCELOTTRISTANBABY; BlackPaintedWhite: Thanks for reviewing this chapter, here is an update and I hope you like it.

Cardeia: The legend is Lancelot and Guinevere, so while I wanted Lancelot to be attracted to Damara, it didn't feel right that he would be "in love" with her. They're great friends and attracted to each other, but they both know it's not romantic love. It could feel like that for a while but in the end it would just ruin their friendship. I think in Lancelot's pain he wondered about how a "love" with Damara could be. Obviously it would be less painful than his unrequited love and that in itself made him wistful for it. The love without the pain. She sees his pain and she does love him and wants to help. At the same time she doesn't want him doing anything foolish because she knows he very well could - he is starting to become undone a bit. Also, I didn't want the rape to just "go away", because it doesn't in real life, so it would be foolish for it to suddenly not become an issue because it is inconvenient to write about. In fact I believe Damara is a probably a little too well-adjusted, but then there are people who are in real life as well. Maybe they truly are, or maybe they just bury it and don't think about it.Either way, there are people who function normally for the most part and only have the occasional shadow that crosses their mind in certain circumstances.I dropped the Merlin bit for a few chapters because I wanted to develop the relationship but he had to come back at some point. So, now he is back.

Disclaimer: Not making any money, etc. etc.

A worry had been nagging at Tristan for some time now. He trusted Damara with his very life, but he she was hiding something from him.

He knew that it was not another man. That was not even in the realm of possibility. But he could not fathom what else it could be that Damara would feel she had to keep from him. This realization had not come to him quickly, but rather over time. And it was more of a feeling than anything else. Sometimes, Damara simply could not be found. He would look high and low, but there would be no sign of her and no one who had seen her. Damara's only answer when Tristan would ask where she'd been was that she had been out for a walk. Or looking for herbs.

He never used to ask where she had been, but now he did and he never got an answer that felt like the truth. He had never caught her in a lie, but something just felt off. He did not like this secrecy between them, and he resolved to confront her about it, though truth be told he was afraid of what he might hear. Maybe she was unhappy with him and sought time alone. He did not think so, but it had to be something bad if she kept it to herself.

When they went to bed that night, and Damara reached for him, he stopped her. "We need to talk first," he said.

She looked at him, puzzled. "What is it, love?"

Tristan came right to it. "You've been hiding something from me – what is it?"

Damara sighed. Here it was at last. "I never meant to hide anything from you. I didn't. It started out with me just not telling you. Then I waited so long to say something that when you asked me about it I would have had to explain why I never said anything. So, I lied."

"You've been lying to me." Tristan stated, disbelieving. He wondered if he was going to wish that they'd never had this conversation. "What have you been lying about?"

"I haven't been taking walks, when you ask where I've been.I've been...elsewhere."

Tristan was getting angry."Well?" he demanded. "Out with it now. Where have you been keeping yourself?"

She'd been seeing another man. Impossible as it seemed, that had to be it. Only – who? Lancelot was rarely around anymore – he hadn't been in weeks. There was no one else, was there?

Damara sighed. There was no help for it – she knew she should have told Tristan months ago. "I've been seeing Merlin," she said.

Tristan's mind reeled. Not quite comprehending what he'd just heard, he looked at her and asked, "You've been sleeping with Merlin?"

"Sleeping… What? No!" she cried. "What is wrong with you?"

"Wrong with me?" Tristan bellowed. "I'm not the one who has been lying about their whereabouts!"

"But that you would even think that of me! And with Merlin, of all people!" Damara shivered. She respected the old sage greatly, but that was definitely the extent of it. "How can you mistrust me like that?"

"Don't try to turn this around on me!" Tristan said tightly. "How am I supposed to know what to think? You don't talk to me, you're keeping things from me, and now I find you're lying!"

Damara glared at him and then softened. "You're right, love," Damara said quietly. "I'm just hurt that you ever doubted my faithfulness. I mean…how could you? Don't you know how much I love you?"

She looked at him with her large blue-green eyes as tears rolled down her face. He could see the love and trust shining in her eyes. Tristan sighed. She was right. He'd known that she would never betray him with another man, and he'd been wrong to even contemplate…

Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Are you manipulating me?" he asked.

Damara's eyes widened in shock and dismay at having been discovered. She uttered a small shriek of outrage and got up out of the bed and flounced out of the room. Seconds later she came back and snatched a blanket. This time she did not get out of the room before Tristan was upon her, picking her up and throwing her on the bed.

"You will sleep in here. With me, as always, whether you like it or not. And that is final," he said.

Damara sat back up. "Who do you think you are, to tell me what I will and will not do? I will do exactly as I…" her words were cut off by Tristan's mouth coming down on hers. She struggled for a short time but then all resistance melted away and for some time after there were only the sounds of lovemaking.

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms. Damara's head was on Tristan's shoulder, and she lazily drew circles in the fur on his chest. "So," Tristan said, "care to tell me what it is you're doing with Merlin since you aren't sleeping with him?"

Damara gave him a little pinch, and Tristan jumped. He took his index finger and poked her in the side. "You don't want more of that, do you?" he threatened with a smile. Damara was horribly ticklish and the mere threat of a tickling was enough to make her back down from almost anything.

Damara made a face. It wasn't fairthat Tristan wasn't the slightest bit ticklish.She answered his question. "I've been learning from Merlin. He's been teaching me his craft," said Damara. She could feel Tristan stiffen.

He was silent for a few moments."I don't like it," he said. "What kinds of things?"

Damara could not go into specifics. Merlin had been very clear that the things she saw and did were not to be spoken of casually. "I've been learning about his religion, different healing elixirs and spells, things like that," she said.

Tristan was silent for a time. He didn't believe in all the talk about spells and magic. He believed in what he could see and feel, and thought that any magic was the result of trickery. Still, he didn't see that there was any real harm in it. Finally he spoke. "I won't stop you, but I don't want it or him interfering in our life again. Is that understood?" Tristan said.

Damara nodded, grateful that he had not exploded like she thought he would have. "I love you," she murmured.

Tristan was content. His life was good, and he loved this woman - his happiness was complete. There was only one thing that would make it even more so. "Do you want to have a baby?" he asked spontaneously. "One of our own, I mean."

Damara picked her head up and looked at him. "Do you mean it? I mean, are you sure? I never thought you liked children," she said somewhat sadly.

Tristan knew what she meant. He'd never really warmed to Bran. He had taken care of the child, fed him and watched him. He'd certainly never been neglectful or abusive of him. He'd just always kept him at arm's length. He'd watched the other knights with the boy, the way they threw him in the air and made him giggle. He wanted to be like that with him, too, for Damara's sake. He knew she badly wanted that.

The child was likeable enough and Tristan knew his parentage was not his fault. But still, when Tristan looked at him he could not help but wonder if he bore his father's face, for he looked nothing like Damara. He hated the nameless father of this child, and wished for nothing more than to run the man through. Him, and anyone else who had taken part. The knowledge that he would never have that satisfaction, that he would never be able to avenge Damara, grated on him. Every time she pushed him away, confusing him briefly for one of them, he felt hatred and longed for revenge.

Bran would come to Tristan sometimes with his arms raised to be picked up. Sometimes he would pick him up for a brief time; most of the time he didn't, instead giving him a treat or toy to distract him. Tristan knew one day the boy would not raise his arms to him anymore. He resolved to make more of an effort, for the boy should not suffer for the sins of his father, or for Tristan's inability to forget those sins. And it would make Damara happy if he would do so.

An idea came to mind, a way to startmaking amends. "What would you think if I were to take Bran out with us tomorrow?" Tristan asked. "We're going to patrol the southern border and the danger there is minimal. He's over a year old now; Bors' son goes out with us sometimes and has done since he was younger than that."

Tears stung Damara's eyes. "You would do that?" she asked.

"I love you, and you love him," Tristan said. He lowered his voice and looked at Damara with an apology in his eyes. "If I am going to be the boy's father, it's time I started acting like one."

Overcome, Damara began raining Tristan's face and neck with kisses. "I love you, my dear lovely man!" He kissed her back, and felt good. Things were going to be all right.

Her kisses began to turn passionate, and became lingering and slow. Her hand crept down and her fingers found the one place where he was ticklish.

"Alright! Enough, enough!" Tristan laughed. "You've worn me out already tonight and I need to get some sleep!" He pulled her against him. "You're insatiable, you know that?"

"Well, just look at you," she purred. "What woman wouldn't be with a fine specimen like you in her bed?" Her hands kept roaming over his body, and he groaned with desire and in the resignation that sleep would not find him anytime soon.

"I should have known better than to accuse you of sleeping with Merlin," he growled. "Minx that you are, you would have been the death of that old man. That he still walks and breathes is proof enough you've never touched him."

Damara rose up and straddled Tristan, pinning his hands down to the bed. "He may not be man enough for me, but I'm pretty sure that you are." She rubbed herself against him, feeling the hardness of himbetween her legs. Her lips lowered to his ear, which she nibbled on to Tristan's reluctant delight. "Prove it to me. Unless you'd rather go to sleep, in which case I'm sure there is someone around who would be happy to oblige me…"

In one swift move, Tristan flipped her over onto her back and slid the entire length of himself into her. She gasped in shock and pleasure at being so suddenly and completely filled. He took her face roughly in his hands. "There will never be another man." His mouth ground down upon hers. "Do you understand? As long as you live, you are mine alone."

Damara grasped his hair and roughly pulled his head back so she could look into his eyes. "As long as you understand that the same holds true for you. You ever touch another woman and you will not touch me again. I don't care what the other knights do beyond these gates. If you take a whore she had better be worth it because you will have had me for the last time."

With that she pulled his head down to hers in a rough kiss. Inflamed by Damara's possessiveness, Tristan spent the rest of the night proving to her that he was indeed all the man she would ever want or need.

ooooo

"Ah, Damara!" Merlin said. "You're late. I've been wanting to talk to you."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I was talking to Vanora when I dropped Bran off and lost track of time."

"Is she happy about the new baby? That will be twelve now, won't it?" Merlin made a sound of amazement. "That is a lot of children, poor woman. Have you not given her the formula to prevent that?"

"How did you know of the new baby, Merlin?" Damara rolled her eyes. Foolish question – Merlin always knew. "Yes, I've offered. She feels it is unnatural and prefers for nature to take its course."

"You are no longer taking it, are you? I ask because you have not quickened with child yet."

"No, I am not. But I only stopped a few weeks ago. These things will happen in their own time," she said.

"It will not be long," said Merlin. He stopped abruptly when Damara put her hand up.

"Please Merlin. Some things should be a pleasant surprise," she said crossly.

Merlin chuckled. "Of course, child."

"What did you want to speak with me about?" Damara asked.

"The anniversary of the union of our people under the king is almost upon us. I wish you to assist me in the blessing ceremony."

Damara was in shock. "I can't – I have no rank or standing. You know that. The honor of assisting you goes to Abhainn."

Merlin grew perturbed. "Is it not my prerogative to say who does and does not assist me?" he asked.

"Of course, Merlin, but will he not be resentful? He will not appreciate being usurped, especially by someone like me. This is highly irregular," Damara said. What was the crafty old man up to now?

"You let me worry about Abhainn, my dear," said the old wizard. "You are to come the night before. You already know what is expected of you, but there will be a purification ritual to prepare you for the blessing ceremony.

"Tristan will not be happy about this," said Damara. "I do not know if I will be able to convince him," she said doubtfully.

"What Tristan wants or doesn't is of no moment," snapped Merlin. "Whether he agrees or not, your place is by my side during the ceremony. Do I need to remind you of your long ago promise?"

"No, my lord," Damara said softly.

Merlin softened. He was very fond of Damara, and hated distressing her. "Go then, child. Come to the forest two nights hence."

Damara worried about what to say to Tristan, but as it turned out she did not need to. Lancelot had returned for the festivities and the knights made plans to spend the evening before celebrating, drinking and reminiscing.

Two nights later, Damara stopped by the tavern before she left to for the forest ring. She was glad to see Lancelot, but he appeared worn and weary. He also had two tavern wenches on his lap. She noticed that Tristan had one as well.

"Excuse me, ladies," Damara said to the women who were occupying Lancelot's time. "This is an old friend of mine."

With great reluctance they got up and went over to the bar, where they were quickly occupied by the attentions of Gawain and Galahad. Looking at Tristan, Damara plopped herself down onto Lancelot's lap.

"How have you been?" she asked the dark knight.

Lancelot's eyes roamed her body, and his arm curled around her waist. "Not quite this well in ages, I'm afraid. I'd be better if you told me that you're not still with that moody bastard."

"Afraid so, love," she said.

"Ahh, story of my life," Lancelot moaned. "All the women I want are already taken." He took a drink of his wine, though he was already well in his cups. "And speaking of the moody bastard, here he comes."

Damara looked over at Tristan who had apparently dumped the wench off his lap, as she was lying on the ground looking outraged. He came over to them and Damara stood up to greet him.

"What's this?" Tristan growled.

"What was that?" Damara asked, eyes flickering towards the still outraged bar wench.

"She came and sat down on my lap – what was I supposed to do, be rude?" Tristan asked.

Lancelot snorted with amusement. "Like that has ever stopped you before," he said.

"So, as I asked, what were you doing on his lap?" Tristan asked, ignoring Lancelot.

Damara pulled Tristan's head close down to hers. "Making a point," she said softly. "You can have all the wenches on your lap that you want. But this," she reached down and rubbed his crotch, "belongs to me." She turned and walked away. "Just so you understand."

Tristan followed her out of the tavern, inflamed with desire. He looked around. The alleyway looked deserted, and he looked hopefully at Damara.

"Don't even think about it," she scoffed.

"Then you'd better be prepared when I come home tonight," said Tristan, "if I'm going to have all night to think about you."

Damara laughed. "Sorry, but if I know you, you'll come home far too drunk to be of any use to me – that is if you make it back at all. Anyway, I have a ceremony that I need to attend tonight. This," and she languidly stroked a finger across the bulge in his pants, "will have to wait until tomorrow."

"What sort of ceremony?" Tristan asked suspiciously. "Clothed or unclothed? I will not have you cavorting naked in the moonlight in front of a bunch of men."

"It's only a purification ritual, to prepare for the blessing ceremony tomorrow." She pulled him close for a steamy kiss that left them both breathless. "I save all my naked cavorting in the moonlight for only one man." She smiled as his eyes darkened with renewed desire. "Now, run along back to your friends and try not to scare the bar wenches with that bulge in your pants."

She laughed merrily as she left him standing there staring after her, a look of utter consternation on his face.

TBC