A/N: SOOOOOOOOO! It's only been an hour since I last updated XD yeah, I'm on a roll... not really, since this is short. I really hope you guys enjoy this one as well. I will now be uploading everything as soon as I get a chapter finished. So yeah, it may take a week, it may take a few seconds. But anyways, here's chapter 4! Short but ties up some of the conflicting issues that last chapter presented. AND this chapter presents even MORE conflicting issues :D YAY! I'm about ready to get started on Chapter 5, so have no fear. That also might be added somewhere tonight, if I'm lucky and write fast :3

Anyway, here's the next installment of Tristan/Arabelle. :D Enjoy!

Cold air rushed through the valley that night. Tristan retreated even further into his riding cloak. Sokol swirled in the air above, trailing lazy circles with her wings. He had contemplated taking Iwain with him, but the boy needed rest. Something about the young Sarmatian didn't rest well with the scout. There was something off about him, even though there wasn't anything very suspicious about him. Shaking his head, the bearded man rid himself of the thought like a wet dog.

"There's nothing wrong with him." He whispered to himself in his native tongue. His amber eyes searched the ground for tracks, anything that might betray the Woads movement.

I go on these missions to clear my mind. He scolded himself. Not to worry about naïve boys with smart mouths.

Arabelle shivered in her blankets. She had already added layers to the bed, putting on her breeches, even going so far as to dressing herself in a tunic. There was raucous laughter coming from the hallway as a group of drunken people passed by. There was a quiet knock on her door, which made her jump.

"Yes?" She asked cautiously. She couldn't hear Gawain's response through the door so she went over and yanked it open.

"What?"

The blond knight looked at her, bemused.

"You've spent time with Tristan." He observed with a subtle smile.

Narrowing her eyes, Arabelle scoffed and threw her head back.

"And why do you say that?"

"You're not a scared little mouse anymore."

The redhead turned back at the swordsman and glared. Her protests died on her lips as Gawain laugh heartily and yanked her out of the room, dragging her down the hallway.

"Unhand me, you brute!" Fists pounded on the muscular arms of her captor. This only served to amuse the knight more and low chuckles could be heard.

"You hit like a girl, little mouse."

That comment made her stop, too shocked to move. Arabelle huffed once she heard his laughter start up again, realizing he was just jesting her.

"You tell jokes like a bard." She shot back.

"You wound me." He cried dramatically, putting his free hand on his heart. After a moment, he responded in a mock serious voice: "You're right though, bards are horrible at telling jokes."

"And at everything else." Arabelle laughed. Gawain snorted. Soon she regained her senses, figuring they were going to the tavern. The laughter was loud and spirits high as they strolled over to the table. The other Knights welcomed her warmly. A warm mug of ale was pushed into her hand, which she looked at cautiously.

"It's like you think we would poison our own." Bors snorted. The young knight glared at the older one and took a swig of the ale, just to prove she wasn't afraid. Galahad laughed and pulled a tavern girl into his lap.

"He's a feisty one, alright." Galahad winked at her, which Arabelle promptly ignored. Taking another drink, she glanced around the table. She frowned at the absence of a certain scout.

Where did he go? She wondered while trying to drown out the others. She stopped. Why do I even care? But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling of his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. Which reminded her of another problem. The ceremony. She knew it had had to be done, now that she had agreed to it. She also knew that the ceremony required her to be unclothed, which was the problem. A day has gone by since she came to the fort, and she was already close to losing her status as a boy.

That can't happen. She shook her head furiously. But how to outsmart the scout? It's almost impossible.

"You're time's running short," The voice in her voice reminded her. "He'll find out eventually. Why not sooner than later? It'll make him more angry if you hide it from him longer."

Her face contorted into a scowl and she shoved a mental gag in her 'helpful' voice. Of course, Arabelle knew it had to happen sometime. It was inevitable. She'd only wished it wouldn't have to happen so soon.

Me and my huge mouth. She scolded herself.

"You alright, Iwain?" Came a gentle voice from her right. Looking up, she stared into the gentle eyes of Dagonet. All the talk had stopped at the table and every eye there was turned to her. She shook her head, clearing it.

"I'm fine." She smiled. "Just tired."

Dagonet nodded. "Understandable. Tristan isn't the most lenient of teachers."

At this Arabelle snorted. A sudden shouting came from the courtyard.

"Where is she? ARABELLE?" A loud, rough voice called. A large man came into view, his face red from shouting. Arabelle blanched, staring at the burly man. His dark brown hair and shaggy beard was familiar. He stood about 6 feet tall with a rotund belly that protruded many inches over his belt.

"I… I need to leave." She said quietly, tugging at Dagonet's sleeve. The healer looked her over, checking her forehead.

"Are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale."

The young Sarmatian eyes were quickly switching from the loud man to the quiet knight.

"I…I…" Then all the color left her face as the man's dark eyes fell on her. His face turned livid as he stormed towards her.

"THERE YOU ARE, GIRL!" He bellowed, yanking her up off the wooden seat. Arabelle started shivering, her face frozen in fear as the man held her tightly. "YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM HOME? YOU THINK YOU COULD ACTUALLY BECOME A KNIGHT?" He screamed in her face. There was a scraping of wood on stone as all the knights stood up, looking from Arabelle's face to the angry man's with something akin to shock. Bors was the first one to react.

"You're crazy. Back off, I don't think Iwain has deserved whatever charge you put against him." He said, placing his hand on the bearded man's shoulder.

"Iwain? WHO in the nine HELLS is IWAIN?" He bellowed. "All I see is some undeserving wretch of a girl trying to blend in with a bunch of knights."

Another hand appeared on the man's other shoulder. A quiet voice sounded from behind his broad shoulders.

"Why don't you put my apprentice down and we'll talk in someplace a bit less public?" The voice drawled. Arabelle relaxed somewhat after hearing Tristan's voice.

The man turned around to yell at the scout, his face went pale. Nodding, he put her down at was led away from the now silent tavern by Tristan. Arabelle was too shocked to say anything, so she sat down on one of the wooden benches heavily. Soon she couldn't handle all the prying eyes and conspiratorial whispers. She fled the scene, her eyes prickling with the first sign of tears.