A/N: I've never done this, because I don't beg for anything, but I notice that every chapter is getting at least 10 views consistently. If you enjoy this story, it's easy enough to vote each chapter. It keeps me aware of my number of readers and helps get this story out there. Come on people, support the author! Comments are good too. PMs are good. Gimme something!

I envision four or so more chapters. Keep an eye out for the sequel to this once those are done. Love you!

"I loved and I loved and I lost you.
I loved and I loved and I lost you.
I loved and I loved and I lost you.
And it hurts like hell."

Gwaine and Lorie stood in the courtyard of the Citadel. It was dark out, the sky above dotted with little stars. Pale lights lit the area they stood in. Glorie waited to the side, eager to return home to the Otherworld.

Both lovers felt tears on their cheeks. Gwaine bent his head and rested his forehead on Lorie’s own. Neither spoke for a full minute, as Lorie began to cry more heavily.

“Here,” Gwaine mumbled as he took off his necklace and removed the ring. “I left you without this last time.”

Lorie smiled sadly. She took the ring and slipped it on her finger. Reaching into her pocket she drew out her own. It was a silver band, on it engraved several words in a script Gwaine didn't understand.

“A new one, as a promise.” She placed it in the palm of his hand. “Wear it in the knowledge that I will come back.”

Gwaine nodded and put it on the chain. With a clink, it landed next to the metal symbol he wore the reminded him of his mother.

“I will never take it off.” He kissed her.

When they broke the kiss, Glorie enchanted a spell. A large oval tear in between worlds formed. Lorie, face wet with tears, backed up. She never broke eye contact with Gwaine.

“I will come back,” she told him again, as much to comfort herself as the knight.

Gwaine smiled, though it was forced. “I know.”

Finally she walked backwards into the tear, following her sister. With a noise like distant thunder, it closed shut. Gwaine stood silently for a long while, staring at the spot where his lover had disappeared. As though the world cried with him, it began to rain. He didn't care. His dark shirt stuck to his body all over, and his hair ran straight.

Finally he turned and walked from the forlorn courtyard. He was soaked to the bone and his boots squelched as he walked on the stone floor of the citadel. Gwaine walked with purpose. Tonight he would finally visit the Morning Star, the local tavern in Somerset City. He’d been meaning to go anyways.

As he walked out of the Citadel and moved quickly down the steps to street level, he seemed to be the only living soul out at that hour of the night. It hadn't gotten particularly late, but between the rain and the darkness, most sensible people rushed indoors.

As he flung the door open to the Morning Star Tavern, the familiarly repulsive yet somehow comforting odor of sweaty men and alcohol met his nose. Gwaine walked inside and went up to the bar. He passed a few men on his way in, men who ignored him in favor of the girls tending the tables. Gwaine didn't notice them.

Inside the citadel, Leon and Elyan watched the streets from the windows in their rooms. They caught a glimpse of Gwaine as he went out the front of the Citadel, and knew where he was headed immediately.

Leon sighed and tore himself from the window. The rain grew worse, making it harder to see out. He walked over to the bed he had been using while in Somerset and sat down.

Elyan still watched out the glass. He stood, arms crossed as he thought about his next course of action. He wanted to help Gwaine, that was his nature. Elyan loved helping people. But he didn't think Gwaine wanted that right then.

“I really thought she'd travel home with us,” Elyan finally said, back to Leon as he watched the falling rain.

Leon grunted in agreement as he changed into something more comfortable behind the dressing screen. “Apparently not.”

“Gwaine’s got to be devastated.” Elyan put his hand on the window ledge. It felt cold to the touch.

“It's certainly been a hell of a few days for him,” Leon agreed as he came out from behind the screen.

Finally Elyan turned back into the room and he leaned against the wall. “We should go down there with him.”

Leon sighed. “If I thought it would help, I would. But you know Gwaine as well as I, Elyan. However much he talks he doesn't actually say anything.”

“I suppose.” Elyan’s face looked drawn in fierce contemplation. Finally he pushed off the wall and went to change himself. He spoke up again from behind the screen. “Do you think he will be in any shape to travel tomorrow?”

Leon, now lying on his back atop the rich comforter of the bed, sighed audibly. “I hope. We all want to get home.”

Elyan agreed with him. He went to his own bed and sat against the headboard. He decided to change the topic. “Will you recommend Mordred for knighthood?”

“I am considering it,” Leon nodded as he pulled himself into a seated position. “He certainly knows how to fight, and he helped this quest more than almost anyone else.”

“Too bad he couldn't kill Morgana,” Elyan lamented bitterly.

“Yes, it is too bad.”

Next door, Mordred spoke with Percival and Galahad. He told them stories of his time with Morgana, of how he remembered her being peaceful and loving and kind.

“Now, hatred has consumed her,” he said sadly, sitting at a desk chair while the other two sat on their respective beds.

“I do not remember Morgana much before she left.” Galahad shook his head. “My mother Elaine of Corbenic moved to the city when I was sixteen, and I was knighted but a year later.”

“Not your father?” Percival looked at him in surprise. “You rarely speak of your family.”

“I never knew my father. Only that my mother claims he was the most noble man to walk the earth.” Galahad shrugged. “She likes to exaggerate.”

Mordred looked at him in surprise. “How were you knighted so quickly?”

Galahad laughed. “I think it's because I reminded Arthur of one of his knights. Sir Lancelot.”

Percival gave a short nod, though he was mostly distracted by the rushing rain pounding on the windows. “You're not wrong.”

“Was he a good man?” Mordred cocked his head to the side.

Percival gave a tiny smile. He tore his gaze from the window and nodded to Mordred. “The best. Though Gwaine called him the most boring knight of all when he was alive.”

Galahad chuckled for a long time. “Why doesn't that surprise me.”

“Sir Gwaine likes to have fun then?” Mordred gave a small smile.

“Too much fun sometimes.” Percival laughed. “But he’s the best of the best.” Suddenly Percival halted then turned to Galahad. “I swear if you tell him I said that-”

“No promises,” Galahad gleefully rubbed his hands together.

A quiet knock came from the door as Percival opened his mouth to speak. Mordred left his spot on the wall and opened it. Fira stood there quietly, her face laced with worry.

“Come on in,” Galahad said in concern, making space for her on the bed.

She nodded gratefully and scooted inside. She wore her nightgown and her hair fell about her chest loosely.

“What's the matter?” Percival looked at her in concern.

She gave a half frown and shrugged. “Everything. Gwaine’s not in his room.”

“Tavern?” Galahad suggested. “That's almost certainly where he got off to.”

Fira sighed. She pulled herself up onto Galahad’s bed and held his hand. She wished there was something that could be done.

“At least we leave tomorrow,” Percival reminded her.

Mordred agreed. “I am eager to see Camelot again after so many years.”

Fira smiled tightly and nodded. But her eyes were full of regret. She didn't feel entirely sure that leaving was what she wanted. Galahad realized this first.

“Fira,” he warned sadly.

She looked away. “I know.”

“Ultimately it is your choice,” Mordred said quietly, catching on quickly.

Percival looked confused. “What?”

“Whether she returns with us or not.” Galahad turned to the older knight and shrugged. “It is up to her.”

“I have no choice, really,” Fira replied. “I cannot stay. There is nothing for me here, except the one thing Camelot refuses to give. Freedom.” She smiled lightly at the others. “Camelot has everything else. I think I shall have to trade my freedom for love and friendship.”