I am fully aware that the historical Geoffrey Chaucer was married to Philippa Roet. I know that she was even in a deleted scene in A Knight's Tale. However, I will be ignoring this information in favor of fanfiction. :)

An hour ago the tavern had been a raucous press of bodies and the sounds and smells that went with them. The end of a tournament always created a festive atmosphere, even for those serfs whose masters had not won the day. For the loyal servants of Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein it had been a night of crowing, collecting on wagers, and generally basking in their friend's stolen glory.

Now even the most enthusiastic revelers had departed for their beds. Roland and Christiana had left some time ago, though Geoff thought they were still probably headed for different beds. More's the pity.

However, a few tourney celebrators remained where they'd fallen - felled not by a lance but by a rather potent local brew.

Such was the case with Wat, passed out on the table between them. The herald poked the red haired man (none too gently), but he failed to respond. A true testament to the strength of his hangover in the morrow. Geoff and Kate were the only waking members of their party. Though they couldn't be called sober, they at least held their liquor with more consciousness and marginally more dignity.

"Well, I think we should congratulate ourselves," Geoff said, raising his cup in a toast to the woman across from him.

Kate raised a dark eyebrow. "Us in particular?"

The writer nodded. "Of course. Another tournament won. That could hardly come to pass without Master Thatcher's invaluable blacksmith and herald." He waved a hand between them and was proud of how (relatively) steady his movements were.

The ferris grinned and met his cup with hers. "Can't forget Roland's tailoring skills," she said, diplomatically.

Geoff pressed an offended hand to his chest. "Far be it from me to suggest such a thing."

"I suppose Will does a mite, too."

Chaucer rested his free hand on the sleeping squire's head. "More than Wat anyway. I've not yet derived his purpose." The man continued to snore into the table.

Kate good naturedly shoved Geoff's hand away from their comrade. She snorted audibly (a bit like Wat's snore). "He's got more of a role than her ladyship."

Though Lady Jocelyn did not travel explicitly with their band, she hardly missed a tournament, and any onlooker could tell you that their Sir Ulrich was the reason. Of course, she was largely the reason Will participated with such fervor.

An enthusiasm not matched by his teammates where her ladyship was concerned. Kate was not alone in her frustrations, but Geoff understood Will's view. Love did tend to elevate mortals, after all.

"Now, now, Kate. Lady Jocelyn inspires. Even if it's only Will that her charms work on. He'd joust the tide to win the moon's favor." That wasn't bad actually. He'd save that line for the next time Will needed to send a letter.

Kate rolled her eyes, and Geoff wondered that the gesture didn't make her dizzy. His own eyes felt a little wobbly. "He'd find himself drowned," she said matter of factly, taking another drink of her ale.

Geoff leaned back in his chair, intrigued. "What is this animosity? Are you jealous?"

"Of her? Of him? No." It was a definitive answer. "She's not as bad as the rest of them, but I've never had much time for noble stock. Will's a good lad. But young and a bit foolish in love. I wouldn't like to see him hurt."

So it was a commonly held reason that caused Kate such dislike, nay distrust, of the only real noble in their midst. "I echo that. We're all of us a bit protective of him, aren't we?"

Challenge answered, Kate seemed to relax across from him. "I suppose we are. You should see Roland get after him," she added with a smile.

Geoff matched her smile. "I have. Our boy is well looked after - if a little foolish," he said, borrowing her words. "But then, weren't you ever foolish in love?"

"Not like that. Those two are insufferable sometimes."

She had something of a point. "What should love be then?"

Kate didn't often speak of her life before joining their ragtag group. She spoke of her love life even less. In fact, the group had learned about her marriage for the first time when she contributed her piece to Will's love letter. Geoff had to admit to a great deal of curiosity, but he cared for her good opinion too much to risk a thoughtless question. Even so, he asked, and he leaned forward to better hear her words.

The blacksmith's eyes turned far away, shaping the words before she spoke them the way she'd mold steel. "It doesn't have to be all flash and dramatic words," she said. "It can be quiet, too. Fun. Free. There's softness to it, and a hope."

The dying fire in the lonely tavern was the only noise behind her words. "You knew that kind of love," he said, simply.

"Aye. Once. My husband and I were married a year 'fore sickness took him."

"I'm sorry." And he was. Life was painful, but he found himself wishing her exempt from its woes.

Kate gave him a small smile and a shrug. "It hurts less to remember now."

It had been a night of bold questions, aided by the subject matter and a good deal of drink. Perhaps that's why Geoff asked one more. "Do you suppose you'll ever marry again?"

He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd refused to answer. But she did. "I married once for love and love alone," she said, and he saw the truth of it in her eyes. "I've got a trade to put a roof o'er my head and food in me belly. I've got friends to pass an evening with." A smile at him and the snoring Wat. "I've none of the reasons to marry that so many others do. If I wed again, it couldn't be for anything less than love."

The writer toasted her with his cup - the second time that night. "Well put."

Her smile turned curious in its own right. "What of you, Geoff? Could you be enticed to marry?"

"Oh, well, I'd need a wife with a trade to support my gambling habit," he said, smartly. Just before her fist connected with his arm. "Kidding, ow, kidding."

Kate waited for him to go on, no doubt ready to strike him again if he continued with sarcasm when she had shared her heart. Finally he arrived at words that would do. "The thing with being a writer is that it means I'm a little bit in love with the whole world. I've found love at times in certain people, but marriage would have to take someone exceedingly special."

His answer seemed to satisfy her, and she nodded. "I understand."

Geoff smiled at his friend across the table. She did understand him, as so often she did. "I suppose we'll both of us wait and see."

"I suppose we will," she agreed. And then the pair began the unpleasant process of unsticking Wat from the table and cajoling him home.

Perhaps fate had plans that neither knew about and the kind of love that Kate described waited for them both somewhere down the road.

Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know!