Galahad woke up slowly, feeling sore but very well loved. The feeble light passing through the window could have belonged to dawn or dusk for all he knew or cared. Feeling sumptuous and languid while dozing on top of deep furs, Galahad's only complaint in life was that his side was far too cold for his liking, his lover missing from it. The situation soon rectified itself though, Tristan appearing with a platter of food in one hand and a jug of wine in the other.

"I've brought us provisions." Tristan said in way of apology for his absence when Galahad gave him a bereft look. He managed to sidle back into bed with the offerings still in hand. They had to be set aside quickly though when Galahad decided to throw a possessive leg and arm over the scout to pull him close.

"How brave. How noble. Does the victorious knight want a reward for fulfilling his quest?" Galahad teased as he kissed the older man's neck to trail little devotions up to his ear. He placed a kiss to one of Tristan's marks, tasting the embedded ink at the peak of his alpine cheek.

"I deserve more than that." Tristan said, turning his head to catch Galahad's mouth with his own. The kiss was too brief for the older man's liking, Galahad breaking it to inspect what Tristan had found to eat for them.

"That's entirely depends on what you brought me." Galahad challenged, nipping at the older man's thin lips. "Hmmm….Cheese, apples, honey, bread, but no meat. I swear, you and your sweets."

"I like my sweets." Tristan said simply as he reached for the earthen pot full of honey. Galahad was about to make fun of him for eating it straight out of the jar without any bread when he found himself pinned down. Choking on air, Galahad jolted against the man who poured honey on his backside, the warrior feeling the cool sticky liquid seep into his crack and coat his ball sack.

"So I gathered." Galahad let out the words hoarsely, Tristan letting him go knowing that the man would stay where he was. Wild horses and Woads couldn't have moved Galahad from this spot, not with Tristan trailing light, teasing touches down his back down to the source of his sticky discomfort. Galahad found he didn't have to wait long. Fingers clenching down into the furs, he gasped as the mounds of his ass were parted, the warmed honey trickling over sensitive skin to cling tenaciously to it. It was persuaded to leave by a clever tongue, Tristan taking his time circling an entrance he had made tender, causing Galahad to squirm enough him.

Gritting his teeth, Galahad cursed steadily under his breath as everything, but that orifice were cleaned off thoroughly, though the broad hot licks over his pouch and taint briefly interrupted his colorful yet vulgar litany. He still had his pride to consider, which seemed a ridiculous concept at the moment to guard so rigorously, taking into account that he wanted nothing more than for Tristan to tongue his asshole. When he tried to rise up a bit to relieve himself, his cock nestled against the fur not finding enough friction there to suit his growing needs, a large hand pressed to the small of his back dissuaded Galahad of this notion.

"Gods, don't make me beg!" Galahad pleaded, doing just that. His left ass cheek was bitten in answer, making him cry out with a frustrated growl. He was kept in place though by strong hands on the back of his thighs, Tristan parting his legs further, much to his dismay. No knight liked feeling exposed or vulnerable, but before Galahad could voice or act out his opinion on this matter, he was breached by a flexible organ. Air was punched out his lungs by his shock working in tandem with his stomach as it flipped, tightening lower muscles before they went liquidly warm from the sensation.

It left Galahad moaning and gasping against the fur, the pitch of his arousal only rising in volume when Tristan began to hum and introduce oiled fingers alongside his tongue. It was all too much and not enough, Galahad finding his limited thrusts into the furs were more torture than relief. He was beyond words now, only capable of making fervent little sounds with Tristan's name mingled and mangled among them. Four fingers deep and busy marking Galahad's inner thighs with his teeth, Tristan seemed too occupied to care.

"For the love of the green god, please…" Galahad finally broke, already feeling the smile Tristan pressed into his kiss before giving his inner thigh one last nip. Fingers leaving him in a rush left Galahad feeling empty and desperate. A stinging slap delivered to his ass made him lift his hips up in direct response, a dripping cockhead wet with precum soon placed to his swollen opening to press its bulbous width in. It caused Galahad to groan out something unintelligible as he felt his rim being stretched and fitted to accommodate a now familiar length.

Even as Tristan penetrated him, Galahad knew that neither of them would last long. As stoic as Tristan acted, Galahad could feel the tension coming off of him like a strap of leather being pulled too tight for too long. The snap of his lover's hips pushed Galahad up to the edge and then over it, the recoil of his lover's movements smooth and steady as Tristan pounded into him. Braced up on his forearms, Galahad found blissed out relief in Tristan's hand, the pleasure of it leaving him shaking and barely able to stay propped up. Even as his spent dripped off of a weapon callused hand, Galahad could feel Tristan finding his own end, the man's release pooling hot deep within him. When Tristan collapsed against his back, Galahad knew it was wishful thinking to keep both of them up so he left them fall to the side in a tangle of sweaty limbs and stickiness of varying sorts.

"Look at you two. Acting like the filthy heathens the Romans accuse us of being." were the words that made both men snap out of their haze, and go for their discarded weapons before fully realizing who was addressing them. To Gawain's dismay, Tristan held onto his knives.

"What of it?" Tristan growled, glaring gruesome promises at the lancer if he chose to stay.

"Have you two even bothered to bathe since we saw you last?" Gawain mused from the doorway with a wide grin on his face.

"What do you want?" Galahad groaned, flopping over onto his back and not caring if he displayed himself in front of the other knight. Gawain had sought them out uninvited, and could deal with the ramifications of his actions.

"I must say, you wear the fucked out look well, fair Galahad. Tristan is a lucky man." Gawain said, studying his friend's nudity with an appreciative eye.

"You had your chance." Galahad yawned, wishing Gawain would just deliver his message and leave them.

"Yes, I believe I am beginning to regret that decision." Gawain sighed. He would have come closer, but he was convinced to stay where he was by a knife embedding itself in the wall quite near his head.

"You'll regret it a lot more than that if you think Tristan's willing to share me now." Galahad said a touch smug, though he reached over to pinch the scout's side in warning.

"I can see his point." Gawain said dryly, taking the knife out of the wall.

"Be careful. He has several." Galahad warned, though he didn't elaborate if he meant word play or actual weapons. Gawain erred on the side of caution that Tristan had both in abundance, and remained where he was."Did you want to say anything of relevance or have you just come by to annoy us?"

"Perhaps I merely wished to check in on your well being, considering we haven't see either of you in days." Gawain said, a grin playing out over his lips as he watched the lovers.

"Touching. Now fuck off." Tristan growled, finally taking the initiative to sit up to further impress upon Gawain that he would like him to leave. He considered reaching for his sword instead of his tunic.

"Alas, but I fear I can't. You smelly bastards will have to clothe yourselves like civilized men and meet with the other knights at the round table. Word has been sent from Rome." Gawain delivered his message without any further ado now that two were getting up.

"Gods, what now?" Galahad groaned, running his hands down his face. He winced at the twinge of pain in his bottom. Whatever the news was, Galahad hoped that it did not involve him riding a horse anytime soon.

"I have no idea but apparently it is of great importance." Gawain said, looking far more amused than he should around Tristan.

"When is it not? The Romans consider scratching their arse important. That doesn't mean I need to be told about it." Galahad grumbled, reaching for his clothing with reluctance. Sleep would have to wait for now.

OoOoO

"I can't believe it. We are to be free men." Galahad said aloud, not for the first time. He was still in a state of shock as he and Tristan sat in the square by the bar and brothel, both men watching the moon climb the night sky to take its seat there. Their minds were heavy with churning thoughts as they regarded the pearlescent disk instead of the wine in their hands. Arthur had called all his remaining knights together to tell them the surprisingly good news from Rome. They were to be granted a discharge from service after fifteen long years defending the crumbling vestiges of an empire. After one last task of escorting some bishop safety through the wild and the Woad filled roads, they were free to do as they pleased, to go where they liked. They could finally go home.

"We are already free." Tristan said, making Galahad look over at the scout with an incredulous look.

"I don't think you know the meaning of the word. Have you not been with the rest of us, enduring the weight of Rome's fickle whim?" Galahad said, turning on his lover to confront him.

"I have. Though it was not my decision to be here, I have come to find that I can easily die anywhere at anytime. It is how I live that matters, not the location I am in." Tristan shrugged, voicing his thoughts on the matter. He was like a hawk tethered at times to a master's glove, but he could still fly. Not even Rome could take that from him.

"But we can go home!" Galahad stated like it was the end all, be all point of his argument. He was dismayed to find Tristan looking blandly back at him.

"Go home to what? Is there anyone even still there who would welcome us back, and even if there were, do you really think that they would do so with open arms?" Tristan pointed out to watch Galahad's face darken deeper with every word. "I have no plans to return to a place I have no real memory of, to a people I do not know anymore."

"So what will you do then? Stay here?" Galahad snapped, starting to feel sick as certain realizations dawned on him.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. I can kill men anywhere. Why travel?" Tristan said too calmly, his face a mask of indifference. It was an inaccurate reflection of what was happening within him. The scout was feeling wounded, his heart beating faster than it should.

"Is that all you really think about? Is that all you are? A killer?" the short tempered knight yelled, Galahad not giving a damn who heard him. His own heart was breaking in time to his lover's own though he didn't know it.

"I will not deny my true nature or calling by being something I am not." Tristan said in all honesty even as he saw the love leave Galahad's face. Its sudden absence made his body leech in cold and his mind grow numb. Feeling like he had taken a blow to the chest, Galahad forced himself to breathe through the tightness and the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. With a too light head, Galahad threw his cup aside as he rose, suddenly desperate to leave his company even as Tristan's hand found his own, trying to steady the man and make him Tristan's hand away, Galahad set his jaw, finding resolve in the scout's steady eyes, blue grey locking in to meet amber head on. They both knew what was coming, but it still had to be said. Too much had gone on between them not to.

"You have given me your answer to the question we have left unsaid and have been made better for that. Do not seek me out anymore, and I shall do the same. We shall always be brothers in arms, bound by blood, duty, and honor, but we never shall know each other again….if we ever did."

OoOoO

TBC