A/N: Well, since it seemed to be a waste to not use a perfectly fine iron cooking pot for its intended purpose (read: I couldn't figure out how to make the pot a feasible weapon to strike Lancelot over the head with in "Between the Fortress' Walls" and used a water bucket instead - LOL), this was concocted up by my brain…

Lancelot sauntered towards the tavern when he heard screaming and yelling. It didn't take him long to recognize Bors' and Vanora's voices. Chuckling to himself, he made his way to the tavern to join his comrades.

Dagonet, Galahad and Gawain had been listening to the argument between the two lovers for quite awhile. Although the pair was not actually in the tavern, but in the kitchen, they could hear everything loud and clear.

Suddenly, the door to the kitchen opened, slamming into the wall, and Bors stumped out with an angry look on his face.

Vanora was on his heels. "Don't you dare walk out on me!" she threatened.

Bors ignored her, and kept on walking towards the table in the corner where his fellow knights were seated.

It wasn't until Bors was close to the table, that Galahad happened to notice the cooking pot that Vanora was carrying in one hand. Gawain saw the pot first when she raised her arm. Dagonet shouted out a warning to Bors to duck while he watched how an infuriated Vanora threw the pot with a nice swing to her lover's head.

Lancelot rounded the corner into the tavern when he heard Dagonet's warning. The next moment his vision blackened and he sagged to the floor in a boneless heap.

For a moment the other knights were too stunned to do anything. They just stood there watching.

"Lancelot!" Gawain rediscovered the use of his legs and mouth and moved swiftly to Lancelot's side.

–– 8 ––

Arthur entered the stables and greeted Jols. "Jols."

"Arthur."

"Is everything ready?" Arthur asked as he moved forward to the box where his white stallion was stalled.

"The horses are ready. Your knights…" Jols gestured around him, with a grin on his face.

"Are nowhere to be seen," Arthur finished for the squire, his grin matching Jols'. "Any idea where they are?"

"I saw Gawain and Galahad in the tavern, the others I haven't seen this morning."

"Where else… I'll get them." Arthur handed the reins of his horse to Jols and left the stables again.

He walked into the tavern at the same moment that Lancelot opened his eyes. Taking in the sight before him, fear gripped his heart. He ran towards his knights who surrounded the figure lying on the ground.

"What happened?" he demanded while kneeling down next to Lancelot. He watched how the dark haired man blinked with unfocused eyes, while he let out a long groan.

Surprised at the lack of answer, Arthur looked up sharply at his other knights. "Well?"

"I hit him with a pot," Vanora spoke up.

Arthur was completely baffled. "You?"

Another groan from the floor turned his attention back to Lancelot, who was trying to sit up. Arthur slid his hand under one arm, while Dagonet did the same on the other side. Together they pulled him to his feet. Lancelot swayed dangerously on his legs like he was drunk. Both Arthur and Dagonet held on to him to keep him from falling.

"Can you walk?" Arthur asked concerned.

Lancelot nodded, but was more carried to the table than that he got there on his own accord. He sat down heavily in a chair, and let his head rest in his hands. "Gods!"

"Here, drink some water." Dagonet held a cup in front of Lancelot, which was gratefully accepted.

Arthur stood watching, taking in the uncommon jerky movements with which Lancelot was moving. He knelt down in front of the Sarmatian. "Lancelot? Can you look at me?"

The Roman wasn't surprised to see the dazed look in the brown eyes of his second. "I think you better stay at the fort today."

"I'm fine, Arthur! Just give me a moment…" Lancelot winced at his own voice.

"You're obviously not fine, and you're staying. That's final," Arthur added, almost in a threatening tone. He straightened and turned to his other knights. "Dagonet, help me get him to his quarters. You're all expected in the stables within half an hour."

–– 8 ––

Arthur opened the door to Lancelot's room quietly. When Lancelot hadn't been waiting for them in the stables when the knights returned from patrol, the Roman commander knew he had taken the right decision in leaving Lancelot behind. Which was confirmed by Jols, when he inquired after Lancelot. The squire told him that Lancelot had remained in his room throughout the entire day.

Arthur sat down on the chair next to the bed, in which Lancelot was sleeping peacefully, although entangled in a strange way with all of his blankets. When Arthur put down the oil lamp he had brought on the floor, he saw the plate with food that was completely untouched, testimony of the hurt that Lancelot had suffered at the hand of Vanora and her cooking pot.

Lancelot slowly cracked one eye open and looked at his best friend. "Arthur. You're back already."

"Already?" Arthur grinned. "It's past midnight."

Surprise registered on Lancelot's face. He struggled to sit up, but Arthur held him back, happy to see that the haziness had left the Sarmatian's eyes. "Go back to sleep. You obviously need it."

Lancelot did as he was told, and succumbed to sleep almost immediately. "Now that's a first!" Arthur mumbled amused.