Disclaimer:  I don't own A Knight's Tale or any characters therein.  They were either created by the real Chaucer or by the movie people.  Doesn't matter though—I get no money either way and only a headache when reading The Canterbury Tales.  Please don't sue me—I'm poor college student with no money and therefore spend my time writing fanfics.

Dedication:  This fic is dedicated to the real Kate, who made me write it and then laughed when I decided to post it.

Unexpected Stars

"Oh Will, you aim too high."

"If there's another way to aim, I don't know.  Tell me what to say to her."

Geoff looked sadly at his friend and felt something in his heart slowly, miserably shatter.  He cradled Will's head and whispered, "Don't do this."

Will blinked and broke the embrace.  "What?"

"I know I have no place to ask this of you.  You saved my life, gave me food and clothes and a job.  But please, don't do this."

Will's eyes went wide.  "Why not?"

"Because," Chaucer looked frantically around at the milling people, "because," Chaucer wrapped his arm around Will and pulled him in close.  "Because, I love you."

The blow to the gut was not unexpected.  In fact, Chaucer welcomed it.  It allowed him to take his mind off its constant turmoil and instead focus on the lack of oxygen in his body.  He collapsed into a heap on the ground.  The herald looked up and tried to say something, but words required oxygen and he had none at the moment.  The look in Will's eyes was one of recognition and fear.  That's better than disgust, Geoff reasoned.  He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure.  "Will," he managed to croak.

Will just shook his head and ran.

Geoff took another few minutes to regain his normal breathing pattern.  He had to announce the knight-errant soon, and Roland and Wat would not be happy if he didn't show.

He ran toward the ring and arrived just as the other herald finished.  Clearing his throat, he glanced down the field.  Roland and Wat were busy saddling Will up and he wasn't even looking this way.  That's probably a good thing.  But what about after the joust?  However, the crowd was waiting.  Chaucer took a deep breath and began.

As the bard began his introduction, Will began adjusting invisible chinks in his armor.  He said he loved me.  Geoff loves me.  A man loves me.  I . . know Geoff is a good friend and . . . but, he's a guy!  Suddenly the crowd was cheering and Roland tapped his armor.  "That's you, Will."  He said in a low voice.  "This is your chance.  Go for it."

"Get 'em!" Wat yelled and smacked the horse on the rump.  Suddenly, Will's mind was in the cradle and thoughts of Geoff's confession pushed aside for later.

That night, after Sir Thomas' unexpected withdrawal and Will advance to the championship round against Sir Adhemar, Will's stomach was in knots.  He couldn't sleep.  Not only did he have to worry about Adhemar, but thoughts of Geoff kept invading his mind.  He'd been able to keep them out of the jousting arena but now they came back, unbidden and unwelcome.

Geoff, too, had not been able to sleep.  Will had scarce spoken two words to him since the joust.  Roland and Wat chalked it up to Will being upset at Geoff for the gambling incident.  But the writer knew better than that.  He decided to take a walk and try and think w/out the constant reminder of his earlier confession.  He slowly got up and exited the tent, not knowing that he wasn't the only one still awake.

Will didn't want to follow him.  He needed time to think w/out the writer's presence.  But Wat's snores kept drowning out his own thoughts and in a few minutes, he exited the tent as well.

Geoff picked his way around the tents and occasional drunks to the deserted jousting arena.  He walked over to the spot before the dais where he had told Will his true feelings.  "Life changing moments are not always for the better," he murmured.

"Why Master Bard," a voice came from behind Geoff.  He whirled around to find Simon and Peter standing under the wooden structure.  "Why out so late?"

"Night air is good for the soul," Geoff replied, putting on his most disarming smile.  "I'm here to think on my sins and beg God for forgiveness."

"Speaking of your sins," Simon pulled out his dagger and began to clean under his fingernails.  "Your liege is facing Count Adhemar tomorrow."

"As you know," Peter continued, "Adhemar is undefeated."

Chaucer began to slowly back toward to the encampments.  "Yes, but my lord is also the champion of the sword.  You will get your gold florins as we both promised." 

Simon's eyes widened, "But didn't you know, Chaucer?  Adhemar has a tendency to unseat his opponents."

"And if your lord's horse is taken from him, he's going to need every bit of his winnings from the sword to buy a new one."  Peter supplied.

"My lord will pay," Chaucer growled.  "He has given his word."

"Oh we know," Peter said with a smile.  "We just wanted to give you a gentle reminder."  Simon quit cleaning his nails and both the Pardoner and the Summoner began closing in on the bard.

Chaucer kept backing up.  "My lord has given his word.  For you to think otherwise is an insult to my lord's and I will defend his honor."  A small part of Chaucer's mind was trying to remind him that he wasn't much of a fighter but Geoff was stuck.  The only thing he could do was hope they would make it quick and he could say he went defending Will's honor.

Ironic after this afternoon, he thought as Peter made to grab for his arm.

Geoff whipped his arm out of the way, turned, and began running toward the tents.  However, Simon grabbed his cloak and jerked, laying the bard flat out on his back.  The breath was knocked from him and for a moment he saw stars.  "This is for people who try and disobey the Lord God," he heard Peter whisper in his ear.  A sharp pain accompanied it on his upper left arm.

"HEY!" came another voice.  Simon and Peter paused and Chaucer took the moment to try and wriggle out of his position.  One of them kicked him in his side and Geoff cried out.  "STOP!" the voice commanded.  It was followed by the sound of running feet.  Geoff was vaguely aware he could no longer smell the two fiends.

Suddenly, there was a gentle shake on his right arm.  "Geoff?!  Are you okay?"

The face of William Thatcher swam into view.  Geoff blinked a few times until the face steadied.  "Will," he whispered. 

"Geoff, are you all right?"  Will repeated.

"Arm.  Side."  Were the only replies his dazed mind could think of.

"Stay still," Will murmured.  Geoff needed no second bidding.  Will's hand ghosted down Geoff's left arm until it found the sticky patch of blood.  There was a sharp intake of breath and then the knight threw open the cloak to find an already purpling bruise on Chaucer's right side.  There was another sharp intake of breath followed by, "Bastards."

Geoff made a dismissive gesture.  "They'll get theirs.  One day."

Will's brown eyes caught Geoff's and the writer was surprised to see the depth of concern there.  Then Will gave him one of his most charming smiles.  "Well, you're going to live."

"Damnation.  I was hoping I was mortally wounded.  That way, at least my works would become famous."

Will shook his head.  "Can you walk?"

"I can trudge," Chaucer replied.  He sat up but was greeted by a sharp pain in his side.  "I can trudge in a few minutes," he said in a forced breath.

"There's nothing we can do about the side.  I'll have Roland look at your arm when we get back to the tent.  We'll wait, though, till you feel better."

The pair lapsed into silence for a minute.  Ample music filled the night air.  Over in the tents a chorus of "My man John had a thing that was long," was going strong.  Crickets joined in every now then.  However, that tapered away after a few minutes.  "So, Will," the writer began with a painful deep breath, "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"Couldn't sleep," Will replied.

"Me neither."

Silence again, even though the chorus had picked up "My lady Mary had a thing that was hairy"

"I . . . couldn't sleep because I was thinking about what you said earlier," Will finally voiced.

There was an ant on the ground Geoff suddenly found absolutely fascinating.  "Look, Will, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.  But I had to say it.  I had to let you know before things got really complicated."

More silence.  Will seemed to be contemplating and Geoff was suddenly deathly afraid of the outcome. Maybe it would have been better if I had let SimonPeter back there just finish the job.  Chaucer opened his mouth but Will beat him to the chase.  "You know why I picked her?"

Geoff stared at him.  Was he trying to be cruel?  "No," he replied carefully.

"Because it was part of the knight ideal.  Every knight has a fair maiden.  So I figured I should find one for myself."

Geoff's heart sank.

"But it wasn't because I was in love.  It was just because I thought it was part of the stars I wanted to become."

"But when you told me you loved me, I realized I didn't really want her.  And at first, it scared me."

Geoff's heart kept doing this bouncing thing.  It would sink and then rise and sink again.  Geoff was quite sure it would burst. 

"But as I was walking around, I kept trying to reason that it couldn't be like that.  However, my thinking was interrupted by the sound of a scuffle.  When I saw you lying on the ground, I was suddenly so scared that you were dead that I couldn't breathe."

There was more silence.  It seemed that Will's verbal fountain had dried up.  Finally, Geoff prompted him as eloquently as he could, "And?"

"And I realized that the one I wanted," Will turned and faced Geoff, "was you."

Geoff gave a soft smile.  "Well, it's about damn time."  He leaned in and pressed his lips to Will's.  Without bidding, Will's lips parted and Chaucer ran his tongue across the top of Will's mouth, causing the young knight to shudder with pleasure.  When they finally broke for air, Will smiled.  "If I had known that was what I was missing, I would have come to this decision a lot sooner."

"Well, let me assure you that you're making the right choice," and the writer leaned in for another kiss.  This time, it was Will's tongue doing the exploring.  A moan escape from the writer's throat and Will moved to try and get closer to his bard.  However, he accidentally brushed against Geoff's injured arm, causing the writer to pull away.  "Damn, Will.  You had to go and ruin a perfectly good thing." Geoff grumbled.

"Hmph.  If it weren't for me, gambler, we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we?"

Chaucer rolled his eyes.  "Scope, William.  If you hadn't rejected me earlier, my life wouldn't have been in peril tonight."

Will laughed.  "Come on, let's get you back to the tent so we can get you patched up and we can continue where we left off."

Chaucer gave a wicked smile.  "That sounds like an excellent enticement."  He stood, but was slightly hunched over in pain.  Will rushed to his side, an arm around the writer's back for support.  "Just promise me one thing," the knight requested as they began their walk back to the tent.

"What's that?"

"Don't ever do this again."

"Yes, mother." Geoff replied.

"No, I'm serious."  Will stopped and looked Geoff in the eye.  "I love you, Geoffery Chaucer.  If I lost you, it would kill me.  So. . . don't do this again."

The sarcasm left Geoff's retort.  "Ok.  I promise."

And they lived happily ever after with hot monkey sex everyday except Tuesdays and bank holidays and Will became the World Champion in jousting and Chaucer a world famous author--the end