Hello all you lovely readers. I am so happy to bring you chapter ten! :) I wan't to thank you all for the amazing revews you have given me. I can't thank you all enough. I still haven't got around to personally thanking you. Just know that you mean a lot to me.

love,

bwr

Chapter Ten

Four days passed by without a single awkward encounter between the scout and the lady. They saw no more of each other. Both were happy and yet miserable about this fact.

After his stubborn return from the infirmary Tristan was soon confined to his room by his commander, who ordered him bed rest on the day that Dagonet was removing his stitches. The three men gathered together in Dagonets room. Tristan was sitting in a chair by the fire, trying not to wince as the thread was pulled from his skin. Arthur was hovering in the doorway, glaring down upon his most willful night.

"You must be well by our final mission next week. If you do not rest, you will be of no use to me or your brothers in arms. You will do as I say." Tristan growled and turned away from his Arthur. He respected his commander the most out of any man he knew and he would never defy his word. However, Tristan was stubborn and being commanded to do anything was always a test on his willpower. Dagonet knew this and did not speak to the scout after Arthur had left.

Dagonet was always the one that Tristan seemed to get along with the best. Dagonet was the oldest and the most wise. He was also the most compassionate of the knights. He fully understood and supported Arthurs view of a free world. It was hard for Tristan to believe in such freedom, when he had been a slave for so the majority of his life. Dagonet was silent most of the time. He never needed to speak for you to understand exactly what it was that he was thinking or wanted. Unlike Tristan whose silence was unreadable. It seemed as if the large healer was the only one who could read Tristan perfectly. Maybe it was because Dagonet was the only one who could understand his love of a solitary lifestyle and never questioned it, or judged him for it.

Soon days had passed by since Arthurs visit. Tristan had spent most of the morning relaxing, and decided to sneak out to visit Suntera in the stables as the sun was setting in the distance. He decided that he needed some fresh air and figured that nighttime was the best cover.

Out across the village, Azalea had spent her days doing nothing but work. She was determined to be the best apprentice that she could possibly be. Even Halener noticed her lack of rest and told her that she could take a break. However, this did little to slow the woman down. If there was one thing that Azalea had learned from her father, it was that she must work hard to deserve her living. It was important to never take handouts. If you owed nothing, then you were free. The shop had never looked more immaculate. Every bit of of fabric and thread were organized perfectly. She ran errands and attended the customers when Halener was busy. Azalea refused to stop working from sunrise until sundown when she would return to her room and rest.

After Azalea had went so many months without proper meals, it seemed to slip her mind often. She had to remind herself constantly to eat throughout the day. Even if it was just an apple or a slice of bread that Halener would throw in to her hands. The two woman were actually becoming great friends and it was a comfort to Azalea during the long nights when Chrystanias dying face would flash before her eyes. Months of mourning her lost mother figure and closest companion had been enough, she knew that she could no longer allow it to consume her thoughts every night. She remembered the nights that she would lay awake due to her torturous thoughts and wake up the next morning without feeling well rested. It was important to her health and to her life that she continued to move forward and refrain from blaming herself. It wasn't what Chrystania would have wanted.

Azalea was soon alerted to the presence of a customer when the bell above the door chimed and she looked up from where she stood, folding a gown. Outside, the sun was setting and the town was shutting down for the night. A drunk man stumbled in to the entrance and spilled ale all over the floor that she had just recently cleaned.

Azalea bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from yelling at the man and took a deep breath. When she felt calm enough, she spoke. "Can I help you?"

The man was just then aware of her presence and looked at her with glazed eyes. He took in her appearance and then leaned against the door frame. "You can do anything you want to me sweetheart."

Azalea shivered at the cold seductive tone in his voice and was thankful when Halener appeared from the back room. When she saw Azaleas face and the man in the doorway, she stomped forward and growled. "You have no business here," and she ushered the man outside.

"Do you know that man?" Azalea asked.

"Not specifically, but I know that kind of man. You stay away from them, ya hear?" Azalea didn't answer, she just nodded.

The sun was hiding halfway behind the western horizon as Azalea finished cleaning the floor for a second time and locked up the shop. Her stomach rumbled and she realized that she hadn't eaten anything the entire day. Knowing that the only open place in town would be the tavern, she decided to head there for some food to bring back to her room.

It wasn't until she walked around the dark streets for a good fifteen minutes in the wrong direction, that she realized that she was lost. Even though Azalea had been at Hadrians wall for months now, she was unfortunately still being interrogated by its occupants. Their beedy prying eyes seemed to follow her everywhere. This caused her to refrain from really exploring the village and learning the streets.

If it wasn't the night air that caused the hair to rise on the back of her neck, it was definitely the footsteps that seemed to be following her through the darkness. She dared to glance behind her for only a moment and saw the drunk man who had entered the shop earlier that night. Azalea wanted to scream in fear at the site of him, but she continued to give off a calm persona as she walked past the open courtyard on her right. Soon the buildings began again and she had the urge to run inside. When she made it to the next intersection, without hesitating she made a right and then ran as fast as she could down the street. She greatly feared that the man would soon reach the intersection as well and would see her running. So Azalea made a quick left down and alley. Her turned happened a moment before the man reached the intersection. She was safe. Azalea stood with her back against the wall silently. Her breath was quick and shallow. Azalea didn't dare peak out to see which direction he chose at the four way intersection, just encase it was hers.

She knew that the best thing to do was to keep moving and to also find a kind person who could help her. She walked out in to a street that seemed to be filled with more activity and came upon a man at the end of the alley. His back was turned towards her. He wasn't stumbling and she prayed that he was sober and with a good heart. Azalea could barely see his appearance in the darkness. The streetlight did little to cast light upon where he stood. The fear of approaching a stranger grew inside of her, especially after what had just happened and yet the fear of being alone, was stronger.

"Excuse me Sir. but I seem to be lost. Would you mind assisting me in finding my way?" Her voice broke, but she bit her lip and held her chin just a little higher in the air as she fought the fear that was clearly written on her features.

The man turned around, shocked that he hadn't heard the young woman approach. Azalea's breath caught in her throat. She took a step back when she saw Tristan. "Shaheen..." was all she could say. Tristan smirked inwardly, remembering her nickname for him.

The man stood there staring at her in a way that felt highly penetrating, as if he could see right through her soul. Azalea shivered and contemplated turning around to run. There was no emotion in his eyes. They were cold and unreadable. Yet she stood her ground. Azalea knew that she had gotten up this much courage and she refused to turn back now. He didn't say anything in response he just stared and Azalea grew desperate. "I...I must have taken a wrong turn, because I can't seem to find my way back again. If you could direct me to the tailor's shop, or show me in which direction I might head in for better success, I would be greatly obliged."

At first the man standing before her said nothing. Then he nodded his head slowly and walked past her in to the street. She had a feeling that he wanted her to follow him, so she ran to catch up and match his pace. However, she always walked a few steps behind. Azalea didn't feel right standing by his side, not yet. When they barely knew each other.

Tristan noticed Azaleas paranoid behavior almost immediately. The way she was out of breath when she had first spoken to him, the way that she walked closer to him almost instinctively and the way her hands were shaking and her eyes darted back and forth as she observed whatever might be lingering in the night.

They walked for a few moments in silence, it wasn't far before they made it to her home. Before Azalea took another step, she froze in her spot. Standing by her door was the man in question. She swallowed hard, "Stay away from me!" was all she could manage to yell. Tristan stopped walking when she did and eyed the intoxicated man who stumbled towards them. His hand was outstretched as if he was going to grab her. Azalea whimpered in fear and Tristan stood in front of her. The man was either too drunk or too stupid to realize who he was facing.

"Oh you found her first, huh?" came the man. He didn't get to say much more, because Tristan grabbed him violently by the throat and slammed him up against the side of a wagon that was resting in the street.

At first Tristan didn't speak, he just watched as the man choked a little and his face began to turn red from lack of oxygen. His concentration was lost only when a voice spoke behind him. "Tristan you're going to kill him." Azalea whispered. Realizing that she neither wanted Tristan to take a life nor her be the reason for it, she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Please Shaheen...let him live. He's not worth it."

Tristan leaned forward to the man and growled out, "Remember me, for if I ever see you following her or I catch you anywhere in this vicinity again...I will kill you and rest ashore...there will be nowhere to hid, I WILL catch you."

Tristan dropped the man and watched as his body fell to the ground. Tristan took Azalea by the hand and pulled her to her room. He could feel the woman trembling beneath his palm and he opened the door as he pushed her inside the dark room. Azaelea would have been frightened if it were anyone but Tristan. She knew that he had taken so many lives, that blood was on his hands and yet with him, Azalea felt safe.

The light from the moon was the only thing that gave any structure to her surroundings and she scrambled over to find the candles. She lit them as quickly as she could. A warm glow came over her residence and she turned to look at the man who had saved her life. He was looking around the room, as if making sure there were no more men hiding in the shadows then Tristan bowed his head and left before Azalea could even say thank you.

Tristan swore at his own foolishness as he hid in the darkness of the alley, sitting on a wooden barrel and watching her room. He didn't trust her drunken pursuer not to return and for a moment he wished that he could have just killed the man and that would have been the end of it. But the innocence in the woman's eyes had caused him to stop. He couldn't do anything when she looked at him like that. Her eyes were paralyzing. Each time she said his name, Tristan couldn't help but be pulled towards her voice. It was all he heard, even whens she didn't speak at all.

Tristan stayed there the whole night, watching over her and departed only when the sun began to rise and he knew that she was safe. He couldn't explain why he cared so much, but at that moment...it didn't matter.