Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
The trip back had been a brutal one for Dagonet, but he endured pain better than most men. The surgeon took care of the wounds and was full of praise for Arthur's and Gawain's efforts.
Soon Dagonet was again up and about, but Arthur restricted him to guard duty for a while, as not to danger his recovery.
It was the feelings of the following weeks that now rushed through Tristan's head as he sat hiding on the wall. He remembered the paralyzing dread he had felt when he saw Dagonet fall. He also remembered how that dread had turned into immense relief and gratitude as he slowly recovered.
They began, more than ever, to seek each other out. When Tristan was not out on patrol, he spent most of his time sitting with Dagonet on the wall and closely keeping an eye out for anyone approaching the gates.
In fact, they used to sit right about were he was poised now, hiding from the very man he held in higher regard than any other. The tall man with the sad eyes.
This can go on no longer, Tristan thought, and stood up and looked down to the courtyard.
ooooo
As Dagonet was leaving the stables he looked up to the wall, only to find the slender silhouette of the man he knew better than anyone. He stopped for a heartbeat, then began his ascent.
"Arthur sent me to find you," Dagonet couldn't bring himself to say anything other than the obvious.
Tristan kept his eyes on him, but remained silent.
"He wants your report." Bloody fool, Dag berated himself, it's not as if he didn't know that already.
"It's good you came, we need to talk." Tristan's voice was calm, but he felt sick.
"I know," said Dagonet.
Then, hesitating, he took a step closer to Tristan.
"I'm just not sure I have the proper words."
What the scout saw in Dagonet's eyes at that moment was no longer uncertainty or fear. It was love, nothing else. Tristan knew he had made his choice.
ooooo
Lancelot saw them coming and nudged Arthur in the ribs to let him know. Arthur watched as the two men approached the table.
They walked, side by side, at a leisurely pace. Close together, but not quite touching. Both looked their somber selfs. Dagonet looking straight at his fellow knights and Tristan's sharp eyes partially hidden behind his fringe. There was something different, though, Arthur thought. Something in their movements that made them seem distant from their surroundings, like the two of them were the only people around. They seemed resolved.
Sitting down next to one another at the table, the two knights seemed to command attention, and the men fell silent.
"Well, how nice of you to join us," Bors said with a sneer.
Though he'd be loath to admit it, he sometimes felt a bit jealous towards Tristan. He liked the man, but nowadays he seemed to be winning the competition for Dag's attention. Truth be told, Bors missed his and Dagonet's easy companionship.
"What use is a scout if he can't find his way back?" Lancelot asked.
This remark earned him a quick glare from the scout before he turned to Arthur.
ooooo
When they had learned all there was to be learned from Tristan's travels, the conversation turned to lighter subjects. They talked of one of the horses having a foal, of food and drink and, of course, of women. The last subject ended in both Bors and Lancelot getting stern looks from Vanora.
The banter continued well into the evening and Arthur remained with the others, even if he kept a somewhat lower profile. Sitting back in his chair he took in the scene. Lancelot and Bors had, once again, resorted to bickering over Vanora and the children. Although they both laughed about it, Bors still looked a little worried. Naturally this only made Lancelot even more daring in his advancements towards the redheaded woman.
In the other end of the tavern Galahad and Gawain appeared to share both women and ale. The spirits were high, though none of them overindulged, since the movements of the woads were still uncertain and the order to leave could come at any time.
Finally Arthur's gaze fell upon Dagonet. He was leaning against the back wall with a mug in his hand, but he wasn't drinking. He seemed deep in thought, but before Arthur had a chance to further assess the mood of the man, he put his mug down and headed across the tavern. Following him with his eyes Arthur noticed a figure sitting in the dark by the opposite wall. Of course it was Tristan, who had the habit of watching rather than participating on nights like these.
Dagonet walked to stand in front of the scout, who immediately looked up at him. Then, and Arthur could swear his eyes had not deceived him, Dagonet lifted his hand and touched Tristan's face. He ran his fingers through the braids and caressed his cheek before turning and walking away. After less than a minute, Tristan followed, leaving Arthur with a thousand questions surging through his head.
ooooo
When they found each other, the hesitation was over in the blink of an eye. Tristan walked into Dagonet's embrace and they stood like that for a long time. The scout slowly stroking a broad back and Dagonet letting his hands hold Tristan's head and tangle his fingers in the long hair.
And then they kissed. A dry, soft press of the lips turned to wetness and tongue. Their hands grew bolder. When he felt Tristan's hands moving lower, Dagonet instinctively pressed their bodies closer together. Now there was no turning back.
They were both grown men, but neither could restrain himself. It had been too long and they felt too desperate. Pushing and moving against one another, feeling each other but still fully dressed, they soon found release. Laying on the hard floor, limbs entwined, panting but otherwise silent.
After a while their breathing evened out, but still they didn't loosen their grip on each other. Eventually, forced by cramping muscles, Dagonet pulled away. When they looked at each other, the feelings were so powerful, the situation so life-altering, that Tristan could do nothing but smile. The most unexpected, radiant, beautiful smile Dagonet had ever seen, and it made his heart sing.
ooooo
Arthur had trouble sleeping that night. Usually he lay brooding over strategic decisions concerning the woads or over politics in Rome. This night it was all about what had occurred in the tavern. Admittedly it had been dark in the corner and a few men had partly blocked his line of sight, but there could be no mistaking what he had seen. He mulled it over in his head.
He was aware of the fact that the men, from time to time, took women into their beds and he thought it inevitable. Arthur, better than anyone, understood the tremendous strain that was put upon his knights. Years spent away from home, fighting, solitude - all of it. He neither condoned nor forbid it, merely let it pass. But this was something different altogether.
He tried hard, but couldn't recall any time either Dagonet or Tristan had shown any interest in women. What other conclusion could he possibly make? This kind of love between men was unnatural. In the eyes of his church it was a sin and the worst kind of abomination. What he knew to be right and what he felt, though, was two very different things. He would be hard pressed to feel anything other than the greatest affection for these two men. No, Arthur certainly didn't sleep well that night.
tbc...