Author's Note: This story contains both gay male sex and straight sex. It is an erotic retelling of the classic story, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. If this turns you off, or if you're a medieval lit snob who will be pissed at me for messing up a classic story, don't read on. Otherwise, please enjoy.
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"Welcome, sir knight, to our hall," the beautiful lady called out. "We see few travelers here."
"By my faith, I am not surprised, Lady," replied young Gawain as he swung down from his horse. "I had not thought to find a manor so deep in the wood, far from village or field."
The young knight surveyed the long manor house of wood and stone and its simple outbuildings with a quick glance, while he handed the reigns of his mount to the quiet groom who had stood ready. Built close into a clearing, the hall was nevertheless fine and sturdy and by all signs had stood here a long time.
Still, the sight of a strange hall so deep in the forest could not hold Gawain's attention for long when compared to the sight of the lady of the hall. She was tall and fair, her long dark hair contrasting sharply with her milky white skin. She wore a rich gown of brocaded silk over which swelled the tops of her full, round breasts. As Gawain climbed the steps of the hall, he found it difficult to pull his eyes away from those creamy curves.
"My lord prefers hunting to farming," the lady replied, taking Gawain's arm and leading him into the house. "So, we live here in the wood where such game as he pursues is plentiful, though I have often said we want for company."
The lady led Gawain into the main hall. A bright fire burned in the center of the long, narrow room. The walls were covered in rich tapestries depicting hunting scenes, and along them stood long benches and tables, where the household might feast.
"Sit, good sir knight," the lady said, gesturing toward the nearest bench. "Let us remove your boots and make you comfortable."
As Gawain lowered himself onto the bench, a servant appeared suddenly at the lady's side, carrying a bowl of water and a cloth. He was surprised when the lady herself took them and knelt at his feet. With gentle strength, she pulled off his boots and began to patiently wash his sore feet with the warm water. Gawain found himself again staring down at her, his gaze captivated by the round swell of her full breasts and the way they rose and fell with each deep, sighing breath she took. Her hands gently massaged his tired feet. Slowly, her fingers slid up, massaging his strong calves. She looked up at him with her large, dark eyes and smiled a strange, knowing smile.
"Is there... anything else," the lady sighed, "that I might do for your comfort, sir knight."
"I..." Gawain stammered, clearing his throat. "I wonder, lady, what place is this that I have come to."
"This is Bertilak Hall," a loud voice boomed from across the room. "and I am Lord Bertilak."
Gawain jumped. His face flushed as he looked quickly away from the lady's captivating gaze and turned toward the source of the great voice. Lord Bertilak, now crossing the hall toward him, was a large, powerfully built man. His arms seemed thicker than young Gawain's legs. His head was topped with a ragged mop of curly dark hair, and a thick curly beard covered his face, giving an overall look of fierce wildness.
"I see my wife has greeted you," Lord Bertilak boomed, clapping a monstrous hand on Gawain's shoulder.
"Your wife?" Gawain flushed even redder, glancing down and then quickly away from the lady's expansive bosom. "Yes... yes, mi'lord, she has made me most welcome."
"Good," Lord Bertilak smiled. "Come lad, tell me who you are and how you've come to our lonely hall."
"I am Gawain," the young knight replied, "a knight of Artur's court at Caerllion, and my tale, I fear, is a strange one."
"Come then," Lord Bertilak said, helping Gawain to his feet. "Let us sit at table and feast, and you may tell us your tale."
Lord Bertilak led Gawain to a seat at the high table, and the servants brought meat and drink. The fair Lady sat at Gawain's side and served him herself, while the young knight told his story.
"It begins a year ago, at Caerllion," Gawain began. "The whole of the court was celebrating the coming of the New Year when a strange knight came into the hall. He stood taller than the tallest of men and his tunic, his armor, his hair and even his face were as green as a forest in summer. He carried with him a great axe, which was also green, and he challenged the court, saying that he would accept a blow from his axe from any man who dared, but that man must be willing to accept a blow from him in return.
"None of the other knights were willing to take up this challenge," Gawain continued, "for it was clear to all that this knight was no natural man. None save myself. I took up the Green Knight's axe. He knelt before me, arms outstretched and neck bared. I struck him a mighty blow and took his head clean from his shoulders. The whole of the court cheered for me but then they feel silent, for the Green Knight's head was cheering and laughing just as they had done. His headless body then reached down, lifted his own severed head and placed it back upon his shoulders. The Green Knight then commanded me to come to his hall in a year and day and take my own blow there.
"So," Gawain concluded, "it is to the Green Knight's Hall that I am bound. The year and day are nearly spent and I go to meet my doom. Alas, I know not where the Hall is, only that it is along this road."
"Brave lad," cheered Lord Bertilak, "and fortunate, for I know the hall you seek. It is but around the next hill and you would reach with only a short ride from here. But it is not yet the New Year. You have some few days yet before you must ride forth and meet the Green Knight. Rest here and take your ease until the appointed day. My lady longs for company and so you will be doing me a kindness."
"My lord, I accept," Gawain replied.
"Very good." Lord Bertilak grinned broadly. "Tonight we will feast, and when you have had your fill a servant will show you to your bed. In the morning, I will leave to hunt in the forest."
"My Lord, I will join you," Gawain said.
"No lad," Bertilak said firmly, "you stay. Take your rest and keep company with my lady and ease her loneliness. When I return from my hunt, I will give you what I have caught as a gift. I ask only that you likewise give to me what you have taken during the day."
"As you wish, my lord," Gawain replied, though he was puzzled what it was he might take while resting at his ease in the hall.
*****
"Good morning, sir knight." The Lady's voice startled Gawain from his drowsy half-sleep.
He had slept the night peacefully and awoken late in the morning. Laying among warm furs and rich blankets, he had allowed himself to doze, content and able to put aside his concerns of the Green Knight and his own deadly quest. He had not heard the Lady enter his chamber.
Gawain sat up quickly, drawing a blanket around him, for he had only slept in a loose under-tunic and did not wish to offend the Lady. Blinking, he turned to her and was doubly startled at what he saw. Her dark hair hung loose and unbound around her pale shoulders, and she wore only a plain white chemise, untied at the neck and open to show the inner slopes of her full breasts. Through the undergown's thin fabric, Gawain could clearly make out the hard, rosy tips of those breasts.
"Good.... good morning to you, my lady," Gawain stammered. "Forgive me for I have slept late and am not yet dressed," he added, pretending to take no notice of the lady's own attire, though his eyes betrayed him and lingered on her.
"Be at your ease, sir knight," the Lady replied softly. "Lord Bertilak has ridden out hunting and will not return before nightfall. The servants are at their duties and will pay us no heed unless called. My days are often so long and lonely. It is pleasant at last to have a guest to entertain."
"Of course, my lady," Gawain said, forcing his eyes away from the lady's pale and inviting skin and fixing his attention on the wall of his chamber. "My Lord Bertilak did bid me to keep your company and ease your loneliness."
"So he did, good sir knight," the Lady whispered. Gawain felt the bed shift as she moved closer to him. Her fingers, warm and gentle, caressed his arms. "And would you? Ease this lady's loneliness?"
"I would serve you as best I may, dear Lady," Gawain replied stiffly. "You are my hostess and Lord Bertilak my host. I do not wish to give either of you offense."
"Then you must do as your host has bid you," the Lady breathed, her lips brushing against Gawain's ear.
"That seems well," Gawain sighed, leaning slowly back against the Lady's warm, gentle body.
"I would give you a gift, sir knight," the Lady whispered into his ear. "Would you take it?"
"I cannot refuse you, Lady," Gawain sighed.
The young knight turned in the lady's arms and their lips met. The Lady was soft, warm and yielding as Gawain drew his arms around her. Her mouth moved against his in a passionate kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair, drawing his head down to kiss her pale throat and her bare shoulders.
With a gentle shrug, the Lady let her gown slip lower. Gawain sighed as he beheld the milky white curves of her bare breasts, their rosy tips hard and yearning. The Lady's hands pulled his head down toward them, and he brushed his lips across their inner slopes. She moaned as he caressed her back and cupped her full breasts in his hands. His tongue spiraled around her rosy nipples, and with a groan he drew them into his mouth, suckling them hungrily.
"Oh, my lord," the Lady sighed. "You stir my passion. Touch me, my lord. Touch me."
Her fingers twined with his and she drew his hand downward, below the hem of her gown.
"Touch me, my lord," she pleaded, drawing his hand up along her thigh.
Gawain moaned into her breast as he felt the warmth between her legs. He slid his hand free and up her thigh, brushing lightly over her soft, curling nest of hair and down along her warm, wet folds. His fingers parted her and she moaned. Her hips bucked under his touch, pressing herself against his searching fingers. Firmly, he rubbed his fingers against her, feeling her body buck and roll under his touch.
"Yes, my lord," the Lady moaned. "Yes.... your touch.... feels.... sooo good. Touch me, my Lord! Stroke me! Oh... please, my lord... please, don't stop. I.... I... oh, my lord!"
The Lady quivered as her pleasure overtook her. Her whole body shook with the force of her passion, and finally, she collapsed limply upon the blankets.
