Understanding:

I don't know how many tears I cried. I don't even know how long I cried for. It had to have been months. Since hearing the news, I have not smiled once. My happiness is gone and my life is not worth living. Yet, I still do. I am alive. Maybe I am still hoping.

Hoping that by some miracle he is still alive. My love. My husband. He promised he would come back to me. I promised I would wait. I made that promise in love and blood. But he is gone. So I will slowly drift away hoping my life would leave me in my sleep, so I may be with my love again.

0-0-0

It was a day of the falling season. Leaves were falling everywhere and the chill had begun to sink into their bones. Heavily wrapped in cloaks and furs the Knights rode on to the center of Britain.

Tristan, the scout, rode ahead of all the rest watching everything around him with hawk eyes. He looked up into the sky and saw his hawk flying right above him. Her wings spread out wide as she turned down and flew into the forest.

'The cold is beginning to get on my nerves,' muttered Lancelot as he wrapped his cloak tightly around his shoulders.

'It is already on mine,' said Galahad.

Minutes passed in silence before the Knights watched Tristan ride to them. His face as blank as his voice. Nothing on him showed emotion. It had been that way since the day they first met. Much to Lancelot's bewilderment also, he noticed that Tristan never took a woman to his bed. Not once in the ten years he had known the scout, had he even seen Tristan looked at a woman in a way that would mean lust.

At first he thought the scout was shy, then some of the barmaids would flirt with him but he would not flirt back. He remained his distance. Then Lancelot thought he must favour men instead of women, but Tristan denied it and Lancelot was reduced to realising that Tristan was a married man.

It took months for him to convince him to tell them all and finally he admitted it. Tristan was married. Lancelot quickly dropped the torments and smart remarks understanding that he wished to be faithful to his wife. 'She must be beautiful though.'

'The village is close,' Tristan told Arthur, as he rode beside him, 'we shall reach it in a few short moments.'

'Very well,' Arthur smiled, 'there we shall rest for a few days before going back to the wall. Hopefully we shall not encounter any attacks while we have our stay.'

0-0-0

'Ok, now look straight,' said Shakira. She was crouching down in front of a little boy outside of the healers hut checking his eyes. Her dark brown wavy hair fell just past her shoulder blades and fell in front of her eyes, causing her to flick it back in a huff.

She held the small rock in between her thumb and index finger and brought it closer and further away from his eyes, studying the effects on his pupils. She lowered the rock and smiled at the little boy.

'You will be just fine little man,' she said kindly, 'the fire did not burn your eyes and your sight is perfect. Your skin will sting slightly for a few days but all you have to do it put some of the balm I'm going to give you over it, and you'll be back to normal.'

'Thankyou Kira,' he said jumping off the small stool. She handed him a small pot filled with a clear paste before he ran to his father, the blacksmith.

Shakira looked toward the gates and saw men coming in on horses. They looked rugged and carried many weapons. She knew they could not be of this land but they followed a Roman. She watched them unmount their horses and some of them parted from the group to look around while the village leader came out to greet them.

'He seems happy to see them.'

Shakira went into her hut and closed the door before sitting down on her bed with her face in her hands. Tears came to her eyes as they usually did when she let her mind wander to him. She wiped them away sharply and scolded herself. 'Get a grip,' she mumbled.

She washed her face quickly and walked out of the hut not wanting to be alone anymore. 'Shakira!'

'Yes,' she asked turning to the location of the voice.

A tall red headed woman walked quickly to her with a big smiled and her green eyes shining. 'So, what do you think?' she asked breathily.

'Think of what Jet?' Shakira asked her sister in law.

'Those……,' she turned and nodded to the new comers, '…..gorgeous men.'

Shakira shrugged. 'Nothing. I'm sure you'll find one to suit you.'

Jet smiled at her friend sadly. 'It has been two years. He was my brother and I loved him dearly…..but you cannot let yourself waste away. You are too young for that.'

'I will not waste away,' she scolded, 'I don't feel right getting involved with someone else. I still have him in my mind. I still feel married to him. I cannot throw that away so quickly.'

Jet hugged the brunette tightly and sighed. 'Maybe your right, just promise me I won't have to pull you out of depression again.'

'I promise,' Shakira said, 'now go and flirt. I feel like your loosing your touch.'

0-0-0

Shakira was walking through the village beside Jet. It was sunset and the village was preparing for the nights feast. Pigs were already on the large spits, vegetables were being cooked by some of the women and music had already begun to play. By the time the sun was gone; everyone would be singing and dancing and eating and drinking. With not a care in the world.

They walked past the Knights and Shakira caught the eyes of one with long braided hair and tattoos on his cheeks. She gasped slightly remembering those tattoos. Her husband had them also. She kept walking but they kept staring at one another.

Jet stoped walking and smirked at her sister in law, finally breaking the intense connection between the two.

Tristan looked back at the woman feeling a familiar vibe but thought nothing of it. He thought the red headed woman looked familiar also but when Gawain called his name, his mind was pulled from its path.

Shakira walked silently beside Jet thinking of the man. His tattoos. Oh, they reminded her of him. Tears came to her eyes and she stoped walking. She covered her face with her hands and imagined his face. His young face with the tattoos on his cheeks. The same one she had on her left shoulder blade. They were put on at their ceremony. They symbolised their union.

Jet put her arms around her as Shakira cried. 'I'm sorry,' Shakira chocked at she wiped away the tears.

'Its ok,' soothed Jet, 'You are perfectly welcome to cry at any time you wish. Was it the tattoos?'

'Yes,' Shakira said with a sniff, 'Everything reminds me of him. I don't know if I can live like this.'

'Yes,' she said sternly, 'you can. You must. Don't do this to me Shakira. He wouldn't want this for you. He lives on in you. I mean…..you still send him the summer leaves when the wind blows steadily. He has been gone for two years and you still send the leaves.'

'I cannot bring myself to stop,' Shakira said looking to the floor. 'I suppose I kept hoping he would get one. I feel like stone. Everything is cold and hurts. I cannot sleep at night because I fear to dream of him. It just hurts.'

'I know,' Jet said as she rubbed her back.

0-0-0

Jet was sitting beside Lancelot, flirting openly and without shame. It seemed that both of them had met their match. Neither of them could believe they had met someone like the other. Open, flirtatious, funny and incredibly sexy.

'And who is that friend of yours?' Gawain asked her.

'Who Shakira?' Jet asked.

'The one with the dark hair?' Gawain asked her, making sure he had the right woman.

'Yes,' Jet said, 'I wouldn't bother. She would not welcome any passes.'

'Why not?' Lancelot asked. 'Is she not free?'

Jet looked saddened. 'Yes but……..well I was not going to mention it but my brother was a knight like you also. You would have known him. Tristan?'

'What do you mean known?' Lancelot asked with a frown. 'We know him.'

'But….,' Jet frowned, 'he's been dead for two years!'

'Not he has not,' said Gawain smiling, 'he is here. Alive!'

'What?' asked Jet completely astounded.

'You say he is your brother?' Lancelot asked.

'Yes,' Jet said thinking of running to Shakira, 'that woman with the dark hair, Shakira, is his wife.'

Gawain spat out his ale while Lancelot's jaw dropped. 'Come again?'

'Shakira is his wife! She thinks he's dead. She has thought so for two years.'

'What?' gasped Gawain.

At that moment Tristan sat down beside Gawain calmly and noticed the shocked looks among the three. 'I do sit down at times,' he told the Knights.

'Tristan?' Jet asked uncertainly.

Tristan frowned at her slightly before his eyes shone. 'Jezebel?'

'Yes,' she smiled, 'oh my Gods.'

She finally realised she had to tell Shakira all of this. She turned and saw her coming out of the hut holding a satchel, which she gave to a tall man with dark hair before he handed her some copper coins.

'Jet? What are you doing here?' Tristan asked as Lancelot and Gawain straightened themselves out.

'Well, I….its a long story but cutting it short. Shakira is with me,' she said extremely quickly.

Tristan's heart soared. 'Where is she?'