AN: So, dear ones. This is the eleventh and, in all probability, penultimate chapter of this story. Hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: They are not mine, but I am all theirs.
From a distance, they looked much the same as last time. Sitting side by side, Dagonet with his elbows on his knees and Bors spitting in the gravel. If you looked closer, though, you would see that Dagonet's shoulders weren't quite so tense and that Bors looked amused rather than shocked.
"Maybe I should have hit the scout in the face, just for appearances?" Bors chuckled.
Dagonet just smiled and gave himself up to relief. His friend had, once again, proven to be steady as a rock.
"Just promise me you'll never ask for my advice," Bors said with a sincere expression on his face. "I don't think I can handle it."
"You have already handled enough, I believe," Dagonet replied, and with an affectionate look he added, "Thank you."
"Alright, enough of this sappiness now," with a touch to Dag's back that was close to a caress, Bors stood up. "I wasn't quite finished eating yet."
No one was more relieved than Arthur when Bors and Dagonet returned together to the tavern. They seemed just as easy with each other as always.
Bors' eyes flickered over to his commander before he made an unmistakable point by taking a seat next to Tristan. The scout's expression didn't change except for the slightest upturn of the corners of his mouth.
With a less than subtle look at his fellow knights Bors made the message clear. If anyone had objections, they would have to go through him.
ooooo
By mid-morning Lancelot was busy sharpening his blades when Arthur approached him. Leaning against a post, the commander watched as the man carefully slid his swords back in their sheaths and put them away.
"You treat those swords better than you do most people," Arthur said.
"Well, most people haven't saved my life a thousand times over," Lancelot replied with a small smile.
"True," with measured steps Arthur moved forward to stand in front of his knight. "I've had word from Rome. We ride out tomorrow, so if there is anything you want to discuss with me, now is the time to do it."
Lancelot didn't answer at first. He just looked into Arthur's eyes with an expression that was hard to interpret.
"Are you certain you can talk freely?" he asked after a few seconds.
"You know I don't want any secrets between us," Arthur said, mistaking Lancelot's hesitance for disapproval. "I feel as if the events of last night and this morning have obliterated any need for concealment, if not for discretion."
"I won't argue you on that," Lancelot said, shaking his head. "There are those among us whom I obviously don't know as well as I believed."
"So," Arthur looked intently at Lancelot. "What is your take on the matter? Have you discussed it with the others?"
"Not in so many words, no. I thought it best to keep the speculations down to a minimum," Lancelot pinched his nose, seemingly lost in thought.
Arthur waited for him to continue.
"In fact," Lancelot said at last, "I'm not entirely confident myself as to what is happening." He looked at Arthur skeptically. "Is it really true? Tristan and Dagonet?"
"It is."
"I'm sorry," Lancelot said with an incredulous chuckle. "I realize this is no laughing matter. It's just so... unexpected."
"Nevertheless," Arthur sighed, "It's real, and we all need to handle it, one way or another."
Suddenly Lancelot's eyes narrowed and he looked at his commander with piercing eyes. "What does your god have to say about this, Arthur? Surely he can not be as lenient as you?"
Trust Lancelot to find my weak spot, Arthur thought before answering. "He is not."
"Then how can you be?"
"As you have often pointed out," Arthur said mordaciously. "My God is not your God. None of you share my beliefs. Whatever views my church have of such unions, Tristan and Dagonet may not share those values and I have to respect that."
Lancelot studied his commander closely. "You don't fool me for a second, Arthur. This has not been as easy for you as you would like me to believe."
Arthur could only smile tiredly at that. "No, it has not. But I meant what I said about this being my problem rather than theirs." He turned towards Lancelot. "Of all the things they have been forced to surrender in this life, love will not be one of them."
They could say nothing further, but simply remained quietly at each others' side for a few heartbeats longer.
ooooo
As much as he usually sought out solitude, Tristan did so even more on this day. He wanted to talk to Dagonet, but Bors had not let the man out of his sight since their talk that morning.
Deprived of the only company he craved, the scout went about his business away from the others.
Just as he was about to tackle the inevitable and join his fellow knights, a cautious voice caught his attention. It was Galahad, standing only a few feet away.
"Not so pleasant, is it?" Galahad said with an uncharacteristically haggard air about him.
Tristan raised his eyebrows quizzically.
"Being the weak one, the one being questioned." the man continued.
Tristan frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I know all about doubts and dubious comments, believe me. Always having to prove yourself." Galahad's words were frustrated, but he sounded dispassionate.
Tristan said nothing, although he began to understand.
"No matter what I do, I will always be considered young and inexperienced compared to the rest of you." He looked at the scout intently. "We may not be much alike you and I, but I know what it means to feel vulnerable, something you weren't all that familiar with until recently."
"Stop," Tristan interrupted. With a despondent look at Galahad he shook his head slowly. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"I don't want you to say anything," Galahad replied. "I'm not looking for you to discuss any of this with me. I'm simply stating that the world maybe isn't as black and white as you would like it to be."
Reluctantly Tristan realized he spoke the truth. The only thing that had kept him from Dagonet for so long was the fear of leaving himself exposed. Now that it was all out in the open he felt defenseless in a way that he never had before.
"I hear you," he said to Galahad. "And you are right, we are not alike."
Tristan stood up and touched a hand to the other man's shoulder, a gesture so unfamiliar that it almost made Galahad flinch.
"And I hope you never become like me either. Don't let your heart harden, Galahad."
Standing so close to Tristan, Galahad could see the passionless features turn to warmth in the scout's face. It made him smile.
"It's not easy, is it?" he said silently.
"You don't know the half of it," Tristan replied, and Galahad caught the glimpse of a grin before the scout walked passed him in direction of the tavern.
ooooo
When Bors saw Dagonet's expression as he watched Tristan coming towards them, he couldn't believe how he had ever been so blind. The man looked spellbound.
Bors touched Dag's arm. "Go to him. We'll talk more later."
With a look of gratitude Dagonet took a few long strides to meet up with the scout. When they met, the instinct to embrace was so strong that Dag got his arms halfway before stopping himself. Clumsily he crossed them over his chest instead. He could feel the others watching, and judging by the tortured look on Tristan's face he felt it too.
"I've missed you," Dagonet spoke in a soft voice.
Tristan hissed. "I'll never get used to this scrutiny. Bloody vultures the lot of them."
Dagonet couldn't say anything. He knew that his own frustration over the attention was nothing compared to Tristan's.
The scout looked Dag in the eye and seemed to steady himself. Then, almost as an act of defiance, he leaned close to Dagonet, put a hand on the tall man's hip and whispered. "Not nearly as much as I have missed you."
tbc...