A/N: I hope you all enjoy the chappy! Starts right after the last!

Shyare sat up bolt right. She started at him with a mouth agape. Tristan kept his intense gaze upon her. He leaned in and kissed her softly. She didn't even respond due to the shock. He sighed and pulled away. Shyare stood up, the boat wobbling slightly. Her sea legs took no notice. Without a word, she dove off the side into the water. Tristan watched her glide beneath the surface, her hair fanning out behind her. He thought she would've needed to breathe by now, but she turned around and headed towards him. She suddenly arrived at the boat. Her eyes peered at him over the edge. He saw the water droplets slowly fall down her face.

"Why did you do that?" he asked quietly.

"I needed to clear my head."

"Did you find an answer?" he asked, with his heart racing.

Shyare nodded, she barely whispered it, "My answer is yes."

Tristan kissed her gently. She suddenly pulled away with a smirk, "I want to show you something."

Tristan needed no more encouragement. He went in the water after her and followed her until she reached land. She clasped her small hand in his own and led him up an overgrown trail. Tristan gulped when he saw himself at the top of the cliff. The water looked so far below, and the heavy mist of the falls looked intimidating. She was still holding his hand, looking up into his face.

"I want you to know how I felt when you asked me that question," she told him, looking him straight in the eye.

"I am not going to jump," he retorted, crossing his arms.

"Then I'm changing my answer," Shyare replied smugly.

Tristan let out a low rumble of a growl, "Fine."

He prepared himself to jump, looking back at her to see if she would follow, "I'll come after you," she promised.

Tristan took a deep breath and jumped. He would not dive head first as his betrothed did. His heart was racing during the free fall. Thousands of thoughts rushed through his mind. It was excitement, fear, enjoyment all at once. There were feelings he couldn't even describe. And then he slid beneath the mist and into the water. He struggled to reach the surface. Suddenly, he saw Shyare diving next to him. She smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him further into the water fall. He gulped in air after reaching the surface. They were no longer in the open, but a small cave. Shyare sat on top of a large stone, looking down at him with a smirk. He shook the water out of his hair and climbed onto the floor. He lay on his back, his chest rising and falling heavily.

She moved herself next to him, playing with one of his braids, "Did you enjoy it?"

Tristan nodded, he turned over, the moment finally passing over. His head lay upon her lap; she leaned down and gently kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes, for once, not one itch of danger bothered him. It was as if time did not exist now. If only it could be like this forever.

"I love you," she whispered to him.

"And I you," he replied, sitting up to be at her level.

"You're so unique," she told him with a smirk.

"And why's that?"

"You've accepted a woman who risks her life on a daily basis. You're about to adopt three children while coming into this relationship. You are facing possible death when this is revealed to Gawain. You'll have to deal with fending Lancelot off me for the rest of your days," she rambled off with a smile, and suddenly becoming serious, "And you love me."

Tristan smirked at her. He gently placed a hand beneath her chin and lifted her face so she could look upon him, "I will always love you," with that he kissed her.

Shyare and Tristan were in the stables. Shyare was just about to unsaddle Alexander when her new betrothed gently pulled her away. He kissed her softly. She couldn't help but smile against his lips. Tristan pulled away slightly and looked down at her.

"Go and ready yourself," he told her, "I shall take care of the horses."

She frowned slightly. "Ready myself for what?"

"I think we should announce the marriage this night," he replied smoothly, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.

"So soon?"

He nodded. "Yes, I want to make you my wife as soon as it is possible."

Shyare smiled. "When?"

Tristan kissed the right side of her neck. "The end of this week." He kissed the left side. "Tomorrow" He kissed her lips. "I would marry you this very day."

"Tomorrow," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "At dusk."

She gently hugged him. He slowly pulled her arms from him. "We have much to do."

Shyare greeted the children quickly before entering her room and changing into a decent dress. She fussed over her hair for once, wanting to look special, for Tristan's eyes only.

Finished, she gathered the children and ushered them into the pub. Tristan was already there, sitting at the bar. The knights were gathered around, confusion written upon their faces. Even Arthur was there, although it did not look as though he had had a choice on the matter.

Taking a deep breath, Shyare walked to Tristan. He stood and placed an arm around her waist. The others watched them curiously. Shyare looked up at Tristan, his eyes were inquiring for permission. She nodded and then gave a reassuring smile.

"Shyare and I are betrothed," Tristan announced proudly.

There was no response at first. Suddenly Lancelot opened his mouth. "This is a jest, right?"

Shyare narrowed her eyes at him. "No, it is not."

Vanora came out from behind the bar and gave Shyare a hug. "Finally!" She then turned to Bors and smacked his arm. "You lazy oaf, get up and start pouring ale!"

The children gleefully ran off to tell Vanora's bunch. Dagonet and Galahad offered their congratulations, while Lancelot sat there in silence, shocked. Gawain grudgingly accepted the betrothal, warning Tristan that he would never be far off, and then added happily that he hoped Shyare would make his life miserable. The ale was poured and everyone happily chatted.

Arthur was the last to approach Tristan and Shyare. He looked grim. "I suppose that you know that this is against the rules of the knights. Am I correct in that you will hold the ceremony after you are released?"

Shyare did not hold her tongue. "No, Arthur. We are in love, and shall make it official before either of us can have our lives taken in battle. Even ten months of uncertainty is much too long, which is why we are to be married tomorrow, at dusk."

Arthur was silent for a moment before nodding. "I could not encourage that action more."

"I don't care what you say..." Shyare kept ranting. She then stopped. "Wait. What did you say?"

"I agree with you, Shyare," he said slowly. "Despite our differences, I agree with you. I congratulate you both and hope that your lives are long." With that, Arthur strode off into the bright sun of noon.

Vanora snapped into action immediately. She smacked Tristan on the arm. "You give her less than a day to prepare?" She turned to the knights. "Finish your drinks and then you're off to work." She grabbed Shyare by the arm. "Come, we must find you a dress."

The two women walked out leaving the men to stare.

"What are we supposed to do?" Galahad asked to no one in particular.

Lancelot rolled his eyes. "Tristan must find some one to make rings, he must get a proper outfit, decide where the ceremony is to be held, who is to come, where he and Shyare are to reside after the marriage…." The knights stared at him disbelief. "What? Have none of you been to a wedding?" The knights reluctantly shook their heads. "Fine," Lancelot barked. "Tristan and I shall go have him fitted for a proper outfit. Bors, the reception shall be held here, so get the bastards and start cleaning. Galahad and Dagonet, I want you to look for a proper home that may suit them after the marriage." He took a moment of thought. "I believe that is all."

Gawain sat in a corner, unwilling to do anything in preparation for the marriage while the others scattered off to their newly commanded tasks.

Meanwhile with Vanora and Shyare….

"Must I wear a wretched dress?" Shyare complained as three women attempted a fitting, nearly four hours after entering the building.

"Yes!" Vanora barked at her. "Stop slouching!"

The newly betrothed woman rolled her eyes but did as told. A fine white cotton material was being molded into her wedding gown. It was long and flowing, trailing behind her. The bell sleeves fell to the floor. The neck was a simple scoop, not revealing very much, to the relief of Shyare. Her thoughts wandered off to Tristan dreamily.

"I wonder what Tristan is doing…" she mumbled aloud.

Meanwhile with Lancelot and Tristan….

"Must I buy new clothing?" Tristan grumbled.

Lancelot nodded as he held a black tunic to himself. "I don't understand why you don't enjoy this. And besides, do you want to have Shyare married to a shabby looking man? I think not."

A whole new outfit, with boots and all was created for Tristan. He sighed in relief that the fitting was done. As they were walking out the door, Galahad and Dagonet strode towards them, with slight smiles on their faces.

"You found a place?" Lancelot asked in shock.

Dagonet nodded, "Come, we'll show you."

It was only a five minute walk until they reached the wall. Instead of exiting, they turned east and entered the forest. After a few moments of following a shadowy overgrown path, they reached a small stone house. It was abandoned. Ivy grew upon the stone. Trees shadowed the roof. An old oak door with an iron ring was ajar.

Tristan cautiously entered. Thick planks of wood created the floor and creaked beneath his weight. Old furniture was left dust covered in their original places. A large fire place was on the furthest wall. There was a loft on each side of the house. Although a bit dusty, it seemed in good shape. He walked around the main room, everyone waiting for his reaction. He nodded to himself.

"Do you like it?" Galahad asked eagerly.

Tristan nodded. "It will be a good home."

Lancelot clapped his hands. "Well, let's check on Bors in the tavern. We'll send him here to clean up the new home. Then we'll pick up Tristan's new outfit and let Tristan have his last drink of freedom."

Tristan and the others arrived at the pub to hear Bors's bellowing voice. Four of Vanora's girls were attempting to sweep the floor as boys polished the wood with rags. Bors sat on a seat at the bar tiredly, about to take a gulp of ale when Danu hit his arm roughly with a toy sword.

"Get up and clean, you lazy oaf!" the little girl ordered loudly.

Bors was getting up to follow orders when he saw the other knights. "Thank the gods!" he exclaimed. "Danu spends much too much time with Vanora and Shyare. I swear she'll be a commander one day if she doesn't get some proper training from women." He then added in almost a worried voice. "She got the boys out of the mud and set them to cleaning! They're actually scrubbing the walls!"

Lancelot nodded and went to Danu who was shouting orders at the twins. "Danu, sweetheart! Come here to Uncle Lancelot."

Danu smiled and hopped onto the now clean floor. She skipped over the dark knight with a sweet smile. "Did I not do a good job, Uncle Lancey?"

"But of course!" he exclaimed, crouching down to her level. "But don't you think you've been a bit…harsh to the other children?"

Danu's sweet smile turned into a frown, and then a scowl. "No. Do you think I have been?"

"A bit…" Lancelot admitted.

"You're wrong!" she exclaimed, lifting the practice sword and whacking him on the side, then the arm, then the shoulder.

Lancelot raised his arms in protest and stood quickly. "Of course I am!" he said quickly. "I have another job for you though."

Danu stopped her aim for a moment. She asked in suspicion. "What is it?"

"I'd like you to go into the flower gardens and make a bouquet for Shyare," he told her with a smile.

The little girl smiled and dropped the toy sword on the ground. "Alright." She was skipping towards the exit when she turned around and ran to Tristan, giving him a hug around the legs.

When the little girl was out of sight, Bors sat down heavily and the children dropped the cleaning supplies and scattered in all directions. Galahad started laughing.

"I can't believe you actually cowered to a child!" the youngest knight said laughingly. "Afraid she might turn on you again, did you?"

"Next time I'll leave you to her wrath!" Lancelot countered. "Now, go and pick up Tristan's new outfit, leave it in his room. After that, you'll get a new mattress, bring it to the cottage and make the place presentable."

Galahad grumbled at the instructions and stalked off in to the late afternoon. Lancelot poured a large glass of ale and gave it to Tristan. "To your last night of freedom," he said.

The scout chuckled but did not pick up the drink. "I may not be free, but I am chained to the most beautiful Sarmatian woman to ever walk this earth." He then proceeded to leave the tavern. The others waved him off and poured drinks for themselves.

Tristan walked up the familiar stone steps to their quarters, in hopes that Shyare would be in her room. He cracked open the door when he heard a gasp and Vanora slipped out and proceeded to block the entrance. She crossed her arms angrily.

"What do you want?" she asked impatiently.

"To see Shyare," he said in his usual quiet manner.

"I can't allow that," she said quickly. "You can't see the bride until the ceremony. Which she changed to early in the morning in the fields just outside the wall"

"But-" Tristan began, only to find the door slammed in his face.

With a sigh, he went to his own room and crashed on the familiar cot. Finally alone the impending marriage weighed down on him. What if Shyare ended up fearing him as others did? What if he didn't love her as she wanted him to? What if she was unhappy with him? He fell asleep to the thoughts.

It was nearly one in the morning. Shyare had not slept all night, instead she watched the children in slumber. She stared at her newly completed wedding gown. Shyare was too restless to remain in her room.

Silently, the bride slipped through the doorway and into the hall. She went barefoot, barely making a sound upon the stone floor. Breaking the rules that Vanora had attempted to pound into her skull, Shyare slipped into Tristan's room.

She smiled at the scout's sleeping form. His hands were folded over his bare chest, his hair casually falling over his eyes. Shyare silently crept towards him. The cot squeaked beneath her weight as she climbed next to him. She knew he was awake; he was too light a sleeper. Grasping his hand, she kissed his palm. Tristan turned and propped himself on one elbow.

"Hello," she whispered with a smile. Tristan didn't say anything. He simply studied her. Shyare frowned at this, something was wrong. "You doubt this, don't you?" She let go of his hand abruptly, "If you don't want to go through with this, tell me now. I won't force you into it."

Tristan gently pulled her beside him and felt Shyare lay her head upon his shoulder. "You will be unhappy with me," he whispered in his rough voice.

She looked up into his face. "Never, I would have said no if I had thought I would be unhappy." Shyare pulled up and kissed him lightly. "I love you."

"And I you."

Shyare fell asleep shortly after, though it felt like it had only been moments when Tristan woke her with a light kiss. It was just before dawn. Shyare left and entered her own room quietly before Vanora could know she had broken the rules. The children were still soundly asleep.

As soon as the sun was over the horizon, Vanora came bustling in. She dressed the children in decent outfits and shooed them away. She shoved Shyare in a tub of freezing water, scrubbing her body with rose water and soap. Quickly dried, Shyare was slipped into the flowing white gown. It was simple, and although she had been offered lace and pearls, she declined. A piece of white cloth had been wrapped around each of Shyare's dreadlocks. A thin veil placed in front of her face, along with a thin wreath of baby's breath set upon her head.

Vanora scouted the hallway to make sure Tristan was no where in sight before leading Shyare downstairs. The red head had tried to force Shyare into shoes, but the girl had gone barefoot instead. Vanora carried her short trail as they arrived at the bottom of the steps. Shyare's horse Alexander waited to carry her above the muck and into the flowery fields of spring.

As she uncommonly sat side saddle, the children danced around her as they made their way to the fields. Shyare could not help but smile and wave to them. The great doors to the wall slowly opened and allowed them through. She could see the small amount of guests waiting for her. There were no priests to be seen, but only those they loved.

A few yards away from the ceremony, Shyare lightly hopped off Alexander and walked towards her makeshift isle. The smiling knights blocked her view from Tristan. Gawain suddenly arrived at her side and offered his arm. They were about to proceed when Danu tugged on Shyare's dress and offered the bouquet of baby's breath and white lilies.

Shyare heard nothing in her ears except the small breeze as she made her way forward. The morning dew was still cold on her feet. The sun was not yet blistering. And finally, Tristan came to her view, blocking all other senses.

The scout was wearing tan breeches with new dark brown boots. A light forest green tunic of the finest material adorned him. His hair was still slopping, much to Lancelot's dismay. His sword hung at his hip. Even at the ceremony, he was a fierce warrior.

Shyare stopped in front of him. Reluctantly, Gawain gently placed his sister's hand within Tristan and pulled back her veil before stepping back. There was no one to guide their Sarmatian ceremony, and so both the bride and groom repeated the vows in the ancient language from memory. Once finished, Shyare waited for Tristan to produce the ring, but a faint look of worry came across his face, causing the bride to frown.

Gawain suddenly stepped forward with a smirk. "The brother had to assist the wedding in some way or another," he said as he pressed to simple silver bands into Tristan's hand.

Tristan gratefully nodded and slipped the ring on Shyare's finger as she placed one on his own. Without hesitance, he leaned down and captured her lips. Shyare smiled against them and wrapped her arms around his neck. The knights whistled at them as children clapped with happy laughter. Shyare pulled away and smiled broadly at her new husband.

They immediately gathered at the pub in a crowd. It was already late in the afternoon. Shyare barely drank, wanting to stay sober on her wedding. Tristan drank little as well as the others foolishly became drunkards. Suddenly a strange man entered the pub at the scout's acceptance. Shyare looked at her new husband curiously.

"You said you would be marked for marriage," he reminded her. "And I thought what better than the day of it." He paused. "Where would you like the marks?"

Shyare thought for a moment before turning towards her husband. "The question is where you want them."

Tristan smirked and looked her up and down openly. He motioned for her to turn and she did so with a laugh. He then told her to stop when her back was to him. Placing his hands on each shoulder blade he nodded. "There."

Shyare turned her head and gently kissed him. "And that is where they shall be."

It took over an hour for the replica marks to be made. They were made to a larger side when it was done. By then the sun was setting. The knights were drunk and children beginning to tire. Tristan suddenly scooped Shyare up like the bride she was and began to walk out the tavern. Everyone waved and laughed, returning to their drinks.

Tristan placed Shyare side saddle upon Alexander. After climbing behind her, the scout gently placed a blindfold on her. She smiled as she felt her husband's arms wrap around her to grasp the reigns. Alexander began to move. A few moments had passed.

"I'm surprised," Tristan said quietly.

Shyare laughed. "Why?"

"You haven't tried to get information on where we are going from me," he responded lightly. The horse stopped and Tristan whispered in her ear, "But that matters not, for we are here."

The bride grinned. "That's good."

Shyare felt him hop off the horse and suddenly she was lifted off as well. She felt him standing behind her, and suddenly her blindfold was removed, but she kept her eyes shut for a moment. "Open your eyes," he whispered, his hands on her hips.

Shyare took a breath and obliged. She looked at the house for a moment in confusion and then gasped in delight. Turning she smile brilliant before going on tip toe and giving Tristan a quick kiss. She began to step forward, when Tristan proceeded to scoop her into his arms and carry her across the threshold.

Much to Tristan's relief, the cottage was clean. A new bed lay on the far wall, with a heavy quilt covering it. Shyare was inspecting the new home with amazement, her nimble fingers running over some objects as she walked around. She heard Tristan shut the door and turned towards him.

Smirking, she slowly began backing up and then sat on the bed. She indicated with her finger for him to join her. Tristan stalked forward slowly. Shyare motioned for him to bend forward. She whispered in his ear, "Let me show you how much I love you…" She then kissed him…. (A/N: You can all imagine the rest!)

A/N: Whew! That took a while to write! I hope you all enjoyed this and the quickness of the update. The next update may take a while. I hope you all enjoyed this! Please review!