“We just had a feast, and you want to go to the tavern,” Leon asked Gwaine incredulously.

The knight laughed. “Fira and Galahad just got married. We need to celebrate!”

Fira and Galahad both chuckled where they stood beside Elyan, Percival, Leon, Gwaine, and Tristan. The latter knight, promoted alongside Bedivere to the Round Table to replace Gaheris and Gareth in recent years, enjoyed the tavern almost as much as Gwaine. Everyone gathered had changed into more comfortable clothing, ridding themselves of chainmail in favor of cloth and satin.

“Listen, I didn't get drunk on wine with the explicit purpose of getting drunk on mead,” Gwaine complained. “Come on!”

Fira spoke up. “For the first and perhaps only time, I agree that we should go.”

“Fira you hate taverns,” Percival pointed out.

She shrugged with a small smirk on her face. She said nothing but looked around at the others, daring them to contradict her statement.

Leon turned back to the knight  who wanted all this to happen. “Gwaine what about your kids.”

Gwaine turned quickly with a sweet smile to Lorie. She rolled her eyes at him and smirked.

“Love, if you're going to the tavern, I’m going to the tavern. Erik and Joyce can put the twins to bed.” Lorie had full faith in her maidservant and Gwaine’s servant as well. She glanced around at the knights. “So, are we going?”

“I'm down.” Tristan nodded. “And we all know what Gwaine wants.”

“What I want is to properly celebrate a marriage between two friends,” Gwaine insisted adamantly.

Elyan laughed but nodded. “What you want is to go to the tavern. Count me in.”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Percival winked at Fira. “Seeing this woman say she actually wants to go to the tavern? Something weird is going on.”

Leon shook his head with a smile. He threw up his hands. “Very well.”

The group laughed and chatted as they left the citadel. Down the stone steps and into the night they went, the air cool since a rainstorm had passed recently. Tristan joked with Elyan, Leon, and Percival as they walked. Lorie and Gwaine whispered and snickered about one thing or another, making no one else privy to their discussion. The newlyweds seemed content to walk hand and hand amidst their friends.

Reaching the Rising Sun, the companions went inside and took their usual table. Most every patron of the tavern knew the large table near the back was Sir Gwaine’s favorite, and as he came quite often, the patrons left it open. And so it was with this night.

“First round is on me!” Gwaine clapped Galahad on the back as he spoke to the group. “The usual?”

Various nods and grunts of agreement met with Gwaine’s question.

Gwaine nodded and grabbed the man who stood beside him. “Come on, Tristan.”

“Oi, why me?” He complained but followed Gwaine immediately.

They reached the bar and to their surprise, someone new stood there. She stood about their height, her hair golden as the sun and wavy to the point of almost knotted. Her green eyes sparkled in the fire and candlelight. Though dressed modestly, something about her screamed nobility. Tristan felt his throat constrict as he looked at her.

“Good evening, sir knights.” She smiled warmly, though her posture betrayed her reluctance. “What can we get for you?”

“I don't believe we’ve met,” Tristan said smoothly. “I'm Sir Tristan, this is Sir Gwaine.”

“Pleasure,” she replied with a curtsey.

Tristan chuckled. “And her name was….?”

She hesitated, blushing. “Iseult, good sir.”

“Lady Iseult, we require four meads, two ales, and a glass of red wine.” Gwaine nudged Tristan from where he stood gazing at the barmaid.

She froze. “I am no lady.”

“You're pretty enough to be one,” Tristan smiled. “And you have the poise of one who knows their value.”

“Careful practice,” she insisted to them as she began to fill the tankards.

“You're a northerner.” Gwaine looked at her curiously. Her accent gave it away. “Where do you call home? I grew up in Orkney.”

She paused. Her eyes grew glassy and she looked at the ground. “I call Camelot home. My birth place means nothing.”

Gwaine and Tristan exchanged confused glances. They watched in silence as she hurriedly handed them the rest of the drinks.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Iseult,” Tristan told her with a smile. “Hopefully I will see you again?”

“Perhaps you will.” Iseult nodded.

“Lady,” Gwaine bowed. He picked up half the drinks and hurried back to the table. “One tankard of wine for Fira, while the rest of us drink swill.”

“I only said that once,” she protested immediately. “I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lorie chuckled and took her mead from her husband. “Ignore him. He's just whining like usual.”

“I don't whine!” Gwaine object immediately. “When have I ever whined? Back me up here boys!”

Percival laughed. “How about that time we had to clean up the spilled manure cart.”

“Okay, that was one time.”

“I seem to recall you whining about recruit training all the time,” Leon added innocently before taking a sip of mead.

Gwaine took a huge drink before slamming his ale on the table. “I don't have to take this. I'm Second Knight of Camelot, and cousin of the King.”

“Oh don't pull rank on us, Gwaine,” Elyan laughed. “You don't act like it half the time.”

“Besides,” Fira smirked, “as Court Physician I could keep any one of you from doing knightly stuff.”

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “Now that isn't fair. You can't pull rank like that.”

Lorie laughed long and hard, running a hand through Gwaine’s hair. “Sweetie, are your feelings hurt?”

The knight shifted in his seat and straightened up. “No. I'm merely defending myself from these slanderous attacks.”

Galahad, who had remained silent the entire exchange, smirked. “Big word for you, Gwaine. Slanderous.”

Gwaine looked at him in mock surprise. “Now that's hurtful, kid.”

“Don't call me kid.”

“I'll always call you kid, kid.”

Galahad rolled his eyes and laughed. He turned to Tristan who had been distracted ever since returning to their seats at the table. He followed the other knight’s gaze back to the barmaid. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Tristan smiled and finally tore himself away from Iseult.

Fira laughed. “Are you in love, good sir?”

“Psh, in love?” He shook his head with a wink and a smirk. “Me? That's a laugh, Fira.”

She shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“I'm not in love,” he objected as Gwaine smirked at him and patted him on the shoulder. “She's just pretty.”

“Gorgeous, I seem to recall you saying,” Elyan reminded him.

Tristan shook his head and took a drink. The company enjoyed the tavern for a couple hours, trading stories and poking fun at one another as they were wont to do. Bonds forged in the flames of war, these knights were more family than friends. But as the hour grew late even for them, Galahad and Fira retired to the former’s chambers. They slept together that night soundly, dreaming dreams of days to come.