Tristan looked at the slumbering form of Sarah, sitting up beside Dagonet's bed and he sighed. Women always had to make life complicated. Sitting down on the wagon floor, he watched Dagonet, his thoughts still on the strange woman beside him. He stole another glance at her and gave her an odd look. Her head had lolled forward, putting her face in shadow and her short hair covered her face slightly. He frowned. She should not sleep that way- she would get a sore neck when she woke. It was hot in the wagon. That was why she had fallen asleep. Tristan frowned again; maybe he should wake her up and tell to go outside for a while. Slowly making his way to her, he knelt in front of her and pushed back the hair from her face and gently pushing her head backwards. She moved then. She slowly opened her eyes and she jumped a little when she noticed him kneeling down in front of her.
"Dagonet alright?" she asked him, a concerned frown creasing her forehead.
"Yes. He is fine. You need a rest. Go outside." He said simply before turning his back to her- trying to rid the new and uncomfortable feeling now present in his stomach when she had looked at him at such close range. At close range, he noticed that her pupils were really large for being in the light. As try as he might, he could not get out of his head the way her hair had felt when he had touched her. The hair, he supposed was a bit shorter at the back than it was at the front. Tristan froze when he felt a soft hand touch him on the shoulder.
"Thank you Tristan," Sarah said simply before getting out of the wagon a little more gracefully than she had earlier. Tristan could not help but smile as he replayed that scene over in his minds-eye as he waited for Sarah to get back.
Sarah went to sit by the camp fire when she saw two Roman guards disappear into the woods. "Maddy?" she called. Nothing. Frowning, she decided to follow them into the woods. At least maybe then they might be able to reconcile their differences. She shuddered. Maybe then they wouldn't hate Maddy so much. Maybe they wouldn't hate her so much either. She stalked them as best as they could. They did hear twigs snap every so often- making them turn around. With sickening dread, she finally saw what they were following. The black shape of Maddy was sniffing away at a rotten corpse.
Deciding to interfere she called from the bushes, "HELP! SAXONS ARE HERE!"
The Roman guards thrust down their weapons and ran back to their posts. Seeing that they had gone, she quickly called Maddy to her. Maddy ran up to her mistress, a dead rabbit hanging limply from her jaws. Sarah smiled fondly down at her. Kneeling down, she hugged the animal and circled the camp, so that the guards would not know it was her. Walking into the camp fire light, she noticed there were lots of people rushing about. Sarah frowned and walked faster to the wagon, trying to find out what was going on.
"Excuse me," She stopped and turned around. Looking down she saw a young boy around the age of ten, holding the hand of the younger child she had looked after during the long walk.
"Hello. What I do for you?" Sarah asked the boy in what she hoped was a kind voice. "Hello again," she smiled gently in the direction of the younger child that she had carried on the march. She had given them to Marius's wife in hopes that she would find his mother. It seems that she was not found. With a sinking heart, Sarah realised that the Romans were unkind even to their own. Pushing back tears at the thought of the boy's loss, she knelt down to better see their faces. "You his brother?" Sarah asked the older boy.
"Yes I am. My name is Riach. My brother is Liam."
"Nice to meet you. My name is Sarah."
"Strange name," Riach said scrunching up his face in confusion.
Sarah laughed lightly and then noticed that Riach had been beaten. "What has happened? You ok?" she asked with concern.
"Soldiers were going to beat my brother for taking an apple. I took the punishment for him," Riach looked into her eyes with defiance.
"Come with me. Take to someone who help you."
"No. I can't. They'll find me." Riach said, panicking.
Sarah looked at Riach worried. "Who find you?"
"The Romans. I am running away. My mistress, told me to run away and so I did. I took my brother- they'd belt him if they found me gone."
"Need place to hide? Won't take to Romans- promise."
Riach nodded quickly, his eyes darting around watching for the Roman hunting party he was sure would find them.
"Follow me. Pretend be my son." Sarah said simply. Unwrapping a shawl from around her shoulders, she put it over her head and pretended to scold the boys for leaving her. "Naughty. Do not ever do that again! You hear me?"
"Yes, mother." Riach said obediently.
Liam just looked at Sarah with wide eyes and Sarah smiled and winked at him from inside the shawl. Liam gave a little smile. Taking their cold hands in her own, she began to walk quickly to the wagon. Maybe Tristan would be able to help her.
"Tristan," Sarah said, clambering into the wagon, after pushing the boys through the opening. Unwrapping the shawl from around her face, she looked at the knight who was still standing where she had left him. He frowned at her.
"Sarah, who are they?" Tristan asked her.
Sarah looked up at him. "Need help. Need place to hide. Run away from Romans. Help me?" she asked him pleadingly.
"They are not your responsibility. They have run away from the Romans! The Romans, for the sake of the gods'." Tristan said in a strained whisper.
"Responsible. Never right to hit child without cause." Sarah said defiantly.
"They don't care for causes. They are Roman. They care nothing for the sake of the individual. Only what is good for Rome. They must go back. You endanger all of us, Sarah. Especially yourself. Why would you do that?" Tristan said angrily. If she got caught, she would be whipped no doubt and passed around the Roman soldiers. He shuddered at the thought and realised, with sickening awareness that he cared for her. Pushing his feelings back, he glared at her. "You want all of us to die?"
"Endanger myself. Not you. You say you had nothing to do with it, if we do caught." Sarah said finally, looking into his eyes with nothing but stubborn determination shining in her eyes.
In short, she was quite an intimidating figure, he mused. "Take them back, Sarah. They will probably not even see through the rest of the winter. It's not worth the trouble. You know I will have to stand up also and take the blame if we are caught." Tristan said, running a troubled hand through his hair. The way that Sarah was looking at him was making him feel strange. It was as if he needed her approval. Needed her to like him. He shook his head. This was not like him. "I swore an oath. I cannot lie."
"To protect the innocent also part of oath!" she pointed out quietly. She didn't know that for a fact, in all the books she had read, the knights were always bound to protect the innocent. Sarah bowed her head after a moment of stony silence. "I do this with or without help from you. Your help would only make safer." Sarah finished with cold brutality.
Tristan glared at Sarah, who glared straight back- the stand off between the two of them made the boys a little frightened. Tristan left the wagon at this point, brushing past Sarah on the way.
Sarah sighed and ran a hand through her short hair. Smiling suddenly at the two boys, she knelt in front of them. "It's alright. You safe now. Me protect you. Not let Romans near you. Promise. Just stay in wagon." The two boys stayed back a little for a moment before Liam ran up to her and threw his arms around her neck. Sarah felt tears prick at her eyes as she squeezed his little body close to hers. She realised that just for the moment, she was all these boys had in the world. A cold cut throat world that held no room for innocence. Sarah clenched her teeth. She would protect these boys if it was the last thing she ever did. Riach looked at her for a moment.
"Will he come back?" he asked.
"Who?"
"The knight, you called Tristan," Riach's eyes glazed over. "We heard stories about knights like these…I want to be just like them when I am older."
Sarah looked at him sharply. "They kill people. People who have families. Mothers, sisters, brothers- people who love them. It is not good thing, Riach. You know little of their suffering that they gone through to become what they are today," Sarah finished, gazing towards the entrance to the wagon wistfully. Looking at the floor she said, "I think he not come back. Hope not." Sarah turned her attention to the almost waking form of Dagonet.
"Where am I?" he rasped, his great head lolling around in the pillow.
"You safe. Me, Sarah, remember?" Sarah asked gently, laying a hand on his forehead.
"I remember. I was cold…there was pain and then nothing. What happened to me, Sarah?" Dagonet looked unseeingly up at the ceiling of the wagon.
"You had died, Dagonet."
"Died?" Dagonet asked disbelievingly.
"Yes. You were dead." Sarah wiped away the sweat of the poor man. "First time you wake. Good sign."
"Why didn't I die?"
Sarah froze for a minute, not knowing what to say. Should she lie? Should she tell the truth? Sarah bit her lip. When she looked down, Dagonet was sleeping again. She sighed in relief and turned her attention back to the boys. "Me find food. Be back…promise." Sarah walked out of the wagon. Walking up to the camp fire she cringed when she saw Tristan, who mutually ignored her. Clenching her teeth, she tried to reason her actions. It wasn't as if she was doing anything wrong. She was just trying to help two innocent young boys who had lost their mother to the Romans. They could be Samartian for all she knew. Sitting down on a log, she stared into the flames. Galahad sat beside her and handed her a wooden cup of stew. Staring down at it in her hands, she smiled in thanks. "I should not leave Dagonet for long. I will eat in wagon. Goodnight." Getting up, she made her way leisurely to the wagon. She frowned. The boys would need a hiding place soon. They were too open, just sitting in the wagon. What if one of the knights discovered them? Would they make her give them up? Sarah walked a little quicker. She needed to sort something out, before it was too late. Wrenching open the flaps to the wagon, she clambered inside. "Here go…food. Eat."
Riach looked at her. "Have you eaten?" he asked accusingly.
"Yes…I said it was for Dagonet. Don't worry about me, I will be fine. Eat." Sarah waved away all his protests. She had not eaten anything. She frowned. They definitely needed it more than she did.
Liam looked between the two, unsure of what to do. Could he eat the food, or would he have to wait?
Riach looked at her for a moment. "Thank you. You have shown much kindness."
"Not problem. Later help me hide you better. We pull some floor boards loose. You hide in there. Stay there till we reach Hadrian's Wall." Sarah said. She checked on Dagonet.
Suddenly, his eyes flashed open and he grabbed at her wrist- gripping her arm.
Sarah gave a shout of surprise and fear as she realised that as he gripped her arm, that something was wrong.
Dagonet's open gaping mouth grappled for breath and his grip on her arm became tighter and tighter. Sarah flinched in pain.
Riach looked up and saw what was happening. "Sarah!" he yelled in a hoarse whisper.
"Stay back, Riach. Me handle him." Sarah said, through gritted teeth. Dagonet was now sitting up and staring at her with unseeing and almost demonic eyes. Slobber and mucus dripped down his chin and face. Sarah was frightened. She hoped she didn't look it. The fever seized form of Dagonet was now sniffing around the room.
Liam began to cry.
Sarah looked sharply into Dagonet's eyes. She turned her head to Liam, "It's alright, Liam…I'm not hurting…see?" Sarah gave him a smile. The smile turned into a grimace and Dagonet wrenched her arm back behind her. "Dagonet, please. Stop it." Sarah pleaded.
"You hurt me. You tried to kill me…You killed me…You murdered me." Dagonet muttered. "Not going to hurt anymore. Stop. You're going to stop right now."
Sarah yelped in pain as he wrenched back her arm once more. She thought she had heard it crack. "Dagonet. Come back to us. You are safe. Safe…though you hurt me."
"Hurt you?" he asked stupidly. "You hurt me."
"No, Dagonet. That was the enemy. I saved you. Sweet Dagonet…rest. You need rest, my friend. Stop this…please, Dagonet. I know you. You are kind and sweet. You make me laugh…you not hurt me like this." Sarah pleaded.
"Who are you?!" He yelled loudly, spittle flying from his mouth. He let go of her arm for a split second and then gripped her other arm and spun her around to face him. He searched Sarah's face blindly. "I know you." He said finally, flopping back onto the pillows in an exhausted slumber.
Sarah tried to move her shoulder. Pain coursed through her limbs. "Ow…ow…Ok, I won't try that again." Sarah flinched.
Liam looked at Sarah with tears in his eyes. "Will you leave the scary man now?" he asked.
Sarah snapped her head up and gave a small smile. "I can't do that, Liam. He needs me."
"Tristan can take care of it, can't he? You hurt. Me not like to see you hurt." Liam said, walking up and wrapping his still cherubic arms around her waist.
"Me not like to be hurt either, Liam. It is fact of life. You live no life without it." Sarah mused. But her shoulder hurt awfully much and Sarah briefly wondered if she had broken it. Blinking back tears, she said, "Besides…Tristan was the one who wanted me to take you back, remember?"
"We remember." Riach said, walking closer to Sarah.
"Good. He very nice but very stupid." Sarah concluded.
Liam and Riach gave a little laugh.
"Hiding place," Sarah said finally, remembering. "Come on then." They set to work. After about an hour, they found that if they loosened some floor boards, there was enough room for two young boys to fit quite uncomfortably. "It will have to do…" She looked down at the dark space. "Go on, then." She gave Riach a little nudge. "If you afraid, pretend you pirates on the seven seas and I am your vassal." Sarah said, rubbing them on the backs comfortingly.
Riach looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you."
"Your welcome, milord." Sarah gave a deep mock bow and winked at Liam, who gave a tiny smile. "Good night, my warrior princes." She placed the floor boards back into place. Covering it with her shawl, so that she could find it again, she rubbed her arm and frowned. Lying on the floor, Sarah tried to make herself comfortable. Sleep would not come, even with Maddy lying beside her contentedly. The consistent pain in her shoulder would not go away. Standing up, she decided that she would go for a walk. Leaving the wagon quietly, so as not to wake the two little pirate kings that resided in the wagon, she made her way to the camp fire. Sitting down on a log she picked at the ground, wondering what she could do to make amends with Tristan. She frowned. She was not in the wrong. If anything, he was. He was just too damn impersonal to see straight. He was too hell bent on surviving to notice and help others around him. Bloody asshole. She felt unaccustomed to the large surge of rage that had suddenly inhibited her very being. So it was as she was sitting by the camp fire that she realised something. She was angry…but she still wanted to make amends. Pouting and crossing her arms over her chest, she muttered to herself, "I will not attempt to apologise…I was a door mat in my time I refuse to be that here. Door mat equals low self esteem…low self esteem equals half a life. Half a life equals unhappiness. I do not want to be unhappy. Therefore I will not apologise." Sarah said finally staring fixedly into the flames.
This was how Lancelot found her in the morning. Sitting there, still staring into the embers of the dead fire from the night before, he smirked at the sight. She was so… he looked up to the sky as he searched for a word to describe the strange and somewhat eerie woman sitting in front of the embers in the coldest hours of morning wearing nothing but her gown…he then found it- weird. He wasn't even sure the word existed but it fit her somehow. Shaking his head he walked over to her and sat down next to her shaking form. Sarah did not look up. Instead she kept her gaze forward, eyes staring into the dead embers that would have been the fire from last night. He looked at her shoulder and frowned. Her arm was bruised. His eyes travelled up her arm and he lightly laid his hand on her shoulder. It was misshapen and from where he sat he could see something protruding out from her sleeve. Sarah's eyes blinked for a moment and she jumped when she saw Lancelot sitting beside her. She winced in pain with the sudden movement of her shoulder. She watched Lancelot out the corner of her eye warily. Last time, she saw Lancelot, he tried to kiss her. Scowling, she returned her gaze to the fire.
"Let me see your shoulder." He said.
"No. My shoulder is fine." Sarah said moving away from Lancelot.
Lancelot smirked and flicked at her shoulder with his fingers.
"OW! What did you do that for?" Sarah demanded slipping into English, glaring at Lancelot.
"It's fine? It's obvious to me and to everyone that something happened." Lancelot moved a little closer to Sarah.
Moving along the log, further this time, Sarah said indifferently, "I lifted something that was too heavy for me and now my arm hurts."
"That's a lie." He moved closer.
"No it isn't." She moved away.
"Yes." Moved closer.
"No." Moved away.
"Yes." While he moved closer this time, Sarah moved further away. Lancelot smirked.
"No."
"Yes." He moved closer, while Sarah predictably moved away again.
"No."
"Yes." Lancelot smirked when he saw that she was about to slide off the log. She didn't even notice. He had to smile inwardly at that.
"No- Oof…" Sarah said and landed in the dirt. Tears in her eyes, she glared angrily at him. Lancelot looked down at her- now with concern. "It hurts…only a little." She admitted, attempting to shrug using only one shoulder. It did not work. "Ow…" Sarah flinched.
"Will you let me see it? It may be broken." Lancelot said, looking down at her in the snow.
"Fine…but no touch." Sarah tried to get up and fell back down when she felt a stabbing pain in her shoulder.
Lancelot sighed and got up from the log, before helping Sarah gently to her feet.
Sarah smiled gratefully and walked to the wagon. She hoped that the boys were hidden.
Lancelot looked at Sarah out of the corner of his eye. He had to smile as he watched her walk, her mind closed to the world around her, a dreamy expression on her face. He watched out for tree roots that would make her stumble. He guided her to the wagon and through it all, she never noticed. He watched with a little amusement and concern when she climbed into the wagon.
Wincing, Sarah stood and backed away from the entrance as she watched Lancelot enter the wagon. Rubbing her shoulder, she looked down and folded back the sleeve of her gown and cringed. There were huge bruises and swelling where Dagonet had grabbed her. Covering them quickly, she looked around panicking. If Lancelot found the bruises, would he make her stop caring for Dagonet? She cared for Dagonet, but also there were the boys to consider now. Should she stop to care for Dagonet, she would also have to find alternative hiding places for the boys. Nostalgia and bile rising in her throat, she flinched as she saw Lancelot come closer to her.
"Let me see." Lancelot said, surprisingly gentle hands touching her shoulder lightly.
Sarah grimaced. She would have to risk it. "Shoulder is fine. I fine. I should not agreed this. It ok, you not pretend you care." Sarah shrugged, using both her shoulders. Gritting her teeth, she realised that if her shoulder was to be looked at, she would have to go to Tristan.
Lancelot frowned. "Something is wrong. If you are hurt it is my-"
"My responsibility. Not yours. My body. My risk. My choice." Sarah said waving him off. Sarah paused, thinking. He was only trying to do the right thing by her and check her shoulder out. "Thank you. I know you mean well."
"Just let me see, Sarah. You are in obvious pain; I can see it in your eyes." Lancelot said, looking deeply into her eyes.
Feeling uncomfortable, Sarah shifted under his gaze. "Cannot live life without pain. No life otherwise…Go, really- I fine. Promise. Just light bruise. Nothing I can't handle."
Lancelot frowned at her before saying, "I would have hoped you would have trusted me by now. You know you can always call on me when you are in need of help."
"I know. I do trust you. Just being honest. Not really used to pain, that all." Sarah smiled up at him.
Lancelot smiled back faintly, so faintly that Sarah could barely see it. She could have sworn that he didn't smile. She watched him leave with a sinking heart. If he thought that she didn't trust him, then what must the others think? Guinevere had drifted apart from her since the fight; Sarah thought that she was angry with her for scolding Guinevere when she came back from the fight at the lake. Was it true that she was withdrawing? It had been a while. She asked Arthur when they were due to arrive at Hadrian's Wall and he had said that they should arrive tomorrow evening. That meant that they were nearly there. To Sarah, it meant that she was further away from the portal. The portal would take her and her dog, back where they had come. That was even if there was a portal. She needed to leave, leave quickly, before she became too attached to the people here. It wouldn't do to forget who she was. Frowning, she sat down and started to think. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, ignoring the pain in her heart. She needed to go home- she just had to figure out how. Not before the boys arrived safely to Hadrian's Wall. She would see them there and then she would disappear. Change her name, change her hair, and possibly even change her sex. She just wanted to be safe. Safe in her home and in her bed. She even missed the horrible shade of green that marred her walls and the matching carpet and curtains her mother had claimed was stylish and more modern. Sarah gave a little smile. If her mother could see her now, Sarah wondered, would she be proud of what she saw? Was her family worried? They would think the worst. They always did- about every single little thing. That was how they were. They worried, they pondered and thought. Thought too much perhaps, Sarah mused, fiddling with her hair. As she sat there, she did not even notice the tears come unbidden to her eyes and fell down. She sat there silently sobbing and she was unaware even to the opening of the wagon and the ever so silent entrance of a seemingly annoyed Tristan. Seeing her sitting there, curled up like a little child brought conflicting emotions to his face. The first was repulsion at the open display of emotion being showed by the crystal drops that fell from the woman's eyes- the second was not known by Tristan. It wanted him to reach out to her and hold her- tell her everything would be alright. He stood there uncertainly for a few moments. Waiting for her to see him. Waiting for her to calm herself down. Sarah did neither, he noticed. She still sat there and played with her hair. He thought suddenly, that maybe she was unaware that she was crying. He watched her. He watched the way her hair moved in time with her tears. The emotions battling within him finally stopped and Tristan took action. He walked up to her and gently sat down beside her and rubbed her back as she continued to cry.
Sarah froze at that unexpected contact and snapped her head up to look at him.
Tristan watched with grim amusement as the look of surprise made her eyes widen and her mouth gape open, like a fish, he thought.
Sarah felt her cheeks and she looked at the glimmer of moisture on her hands disbelievingly. She couldn't have cried. She didn't even feel it. Ignoring that fact, she looked back to Tristan, who had seated himself beside her. "What you doing here?" she mumbled, shifting slightly.
Tristan said nothing. He looked at her for a moment. "Lancelot said you were hurt. I came to have a look," he finally said indifferently, looking back at her.
"He said what?" Sarah said.
"Lancelot said you were hurt and didn't trust him to inspect you. He said that I might have better luck than he." Tristan replied, removing his hand from her, with what he realised to be reluctance.
"Oh." Sarah said stupidly. "I trust him, I do. I need to be here. I afraid that if I showed him, he not let me treat Dagonet anymore. You know I need to be here." Sarah said pleadingly.
Tristan frowned down at her. "You have taken them back?"
"No I have not." Sarah said, deciding to be honest with him.
Tristan bowed his head. "Show me you shoulder," he said simply.
"I'm sorry. I need do this." Sarah said, begging him to understand.
"Show me your shoulder."
Sarah shut her mouth and silently rolled the sleeve to her gown off her shoulder. She watched with dead eyes as Tristan changed positions to see better. He didn't understand. Sarah looked at him, her heart sinking further and further until she could have sworn that it had reached the floor and the ground beneath the wooden floor.
Tristan looked at the shoulder with concern. He disguised it with keeping his head from Sarah's view. Touching it lightly, he saw that it was dislocated. "It's dislocated."
"Oh, that is good," Sarah said sarcastically, throwing back her head and let out a bark of laughter. "It seems, my record has been broken," Sarah said in English. She was, up till now, so proud of the fact that she had never broken a bone before. Her sister, four years older than she had broken both her legs. Sarah bit her lip as memories of conversations between her sister and herself came flooding back.
"I am going to reset it. It will hurt. You will probably pass out. Lay down."
"What? Now? Here? Why?" Sarah sat up a little straighter and looked at Tristan, who kept touching her shoulder.
"I am going to reset the bone. Yes, now. Yes, here- if we don't, it may get worse." Tristan said shrugging his shoulders.
Sarah looked up at him worriedly. "Really get worse?"
"Yes."
"How worse? Worse worse, or just worse?"
Tristan rolled his eyes. "I'd have been finished by now milady."
"You avoided question."
Tristan sighed in annoyance. Women. They could be so trivial sometimes. "It was an irrelevant question. It will hurt significantly more when it gets worse- if you keep using it. When I do this, it will remain bruised for a long while."
Sarah looked down at the floor. Biting her lip, she contemplated the thought of his hands on her skin. She shivered. She had never let any man touch her unless he was directly related to her. Her arm would remain dislocated if she didn't let him reset it. "I am scared."
Tristan nodded briefly. "It is to be expected. I am guessing that you have not broken a bone before?"
Sarah smiled briefly before frowning. "I've broken my record!" she exclaimed in English, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. Muttering curses under her breath, she paced the room frustrated. She turned to Tristan. "No, not broken bone before."
He gave her a weird look before saying, "You must make yourself ready."
"What? What is wrong with how I am?" she squeaked.
"I will need to examine it." Tristan shifted uncomfortably. "You need to take off your gown…" He shifted from foot to foot. In truth, the prospect of laying his hands on her skin was making him feel strange. He gritted his teeth in anger. He had never felt this way around other women.
Sarah gaped at him, mouth hanging wide open. Stuttering, she said, "W-w-what?! Take off gown?! B-b-b-but what if I not c-comfortable with…this?"
Tristan looked down at his feet. "I would have sent Guinevere, but she has limited knowledge of this area. She can only deal with wounds. I am sorry."
"You won't look?" Sarah asked accusingly.
Tristan was going to smirk- he could feel it on his lips. He covered it with a cough. "No, I will not- unless you want me to," he had to add, making himself turn slightly pink.
Sarah flushed scarlet and folded her arms, with some difficulty. Staring fixedly down at the floor, she clenched her teeth. She glanced around the room panicked. Pacing once more she muttered in English, "This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This is not real. I got struck by lightening and I am now in a coma. Something like that…yeah. This is all in my head. I can do what I like, I won't die. I am only in my head. The only reason why I have a dislocated shoulder is because it is in my dream." She stopped pacing. "So…if I die, then will I be sent back home?" she wondered.
Tristan watched the form of Sarah pace and mutter to herself, wearily. In reality, it wasn't that bad. He was not like Lancelot or any of the other knights, who might have tried to take advantage of the situation. He continued to stare at Sarah confusedly. "Sarah?" he said, getting her attention.
Sarah whirled around and saw him looking at her. Looking down at the floor, she supposed there was really nothing for it. He did assure her that it would be over quickly. "Will you turn, so I can get ready?" she asked quietly. So quietly, in fact Tristan had trouble hearing her.
He turned for her. He stared fixedly at one spot on the wall to avoid thinking about the intensity of the situation. He was a warrior, dammit. He would contain himself and be noble about it. Gritting his teeth, he released the breath he had been holding- silently, of course.
Sarah slipped off the sleeves to her gown and let it slip slightly, artfully only revealing her shoulders. This way, she would not feel so uncomfortable. "Where you want me?" she asked. "On floor?" Sarah flushed when she realised the possible double meaning in her words. She hoped Tristan did not pick it up.
He did and he blushed ever so slightly. Turning to face her, he said in what he hoped was an indifferent voice, "Just sit on the floor for the moment."
Sarah carefully sat down on the floor, careful of her shoulder. She stiffened when Tristan came and sat down beside her. His hands touched her shoulder and touched the bruised area.
Her shoulder was definitely dislocated. Tristan could feel where the bone was supposed to connect with the socket. He closed his eyes when he heard her inhale sharply. He assessed how best to put the bone back in its socket. "Lie face down on the floor."
"It time?" Sarah asked worriedly, looking into his eyes sharply. Seeing that Tristan nodded, she sighed and lay face down on the floor. She waited for the pain she was sure would come. Mentally bracing herself. She felt his hands run down her arm and she shivered slightly. It then happened. Bright spots of light danced behind her eyes, making her dizzy. White hot pain seared through her veins. She tried to be quiet, but failed miserably. She opened her mouth and screamed. It seemed that the pain never ended. Tristan was wrong. She did not pass out. The pain continued and her body was racked with trembling. Lying on her stomach, Sarah gasped for air. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shut her mouth and clenched her fists tightly, digging her nails into her palms- drawing blood. The pain eventually ebbed down and Sarah was able to sit up. She couldn't sit up, she realised with a sickening feeling in her stomach. Looking up at Tristan who was still sitting next to her, she felt the bile rise up in her throat. She scrambled for the exit, flinching in pain when her sore arm felt the strain. Reaching the exit, she fell out of the wagon and she crawled for the nearest bush. Opening her mouth she dry retched. She had really eaten for a while and so there was nothing in her stomach for her to throw up. After the nausea subsided, she lay there exhausted. She felt strong arms lift her up and carry her back to the wagon.
Tristan looked down at the exhausted body of the woman and gently picked her up. Carrying her back to the wagon he looked upon her admiringly. She had stayed conscious. She was still a mystery. The knights still did not know of how she had come to them. He frowned. Her head lolling back, she looked peaceful as she slept. Her face was completely emotionless. He gently laid her down on some blankets and covered her with another. Her hair caught the gleam of the lamp that was almost about to go out. It cast a rosy glow of her body. He himself, he sat down on the opposite side of the wagon, deciding to stay in case Dagonet woke. At least that was what he told himself anyway. In reality, he wanted to see how she looked when she woke. Did her hair look ruffled? Would her eyes, when she opened them be still sleepy? Tristan gave himself a little shake and leant his back against the wall. Telling himself that he didn't care that much what she looked like in the morning, he shut his eyes and tried to rest a little. He did not sleep that night. He had a condition that was later on in time, referred to as insomnia. Sitting there, he let his mind fly. Day dreaming, for him was the only type of rest he ever received at night. He was flying away from Britannia back to his homeland, but it brought none of the old comfort it used to. He felt lonely. Lonely for the first time in his life.
