Hey all. Thanks for all the reviews – they really make my day! A return to some humour in this one (at least I hope so).

Usual disclaimers apply…

Hope you enjoy it and please review

-celosia-

It was Maye's first night back at the tavern. Of course she was preoccupied but hoped to be hiding it. It was a familiar routine and in some ways quite comforting – like a dance in which all the players understood their steps. That was, of course, until one stepped out of line.

She was clearing a table, only to have her hand stayed by a large man. The grip on her wrist was firm but not painful. Startled, she looked up in surprise and a tiny bit of annoyance. How dare he interrupt her dance? Despite this Maye was calm.

"Sir?" Maybe he wanted another drink… or some food.

"You look like you need a man, wench."

Whoa. That was unexpected. Maye had almost forgotten how to deal with customers like this. Most had been too terrified of Tristan and his fearsome reputation to even lay a finger on her. She focused more clearly now. If she had been paying attention, a well-aimed shove or kick would have been enough to free her without causing a lot of bother. It was too late for that now. The look in the man's eyes was lustful but not clouded by drink. He was well muscled and quite handsome and sitting at a table with two other large companions. They were in one of the darker corners of the tavern. Maye tried to think clearly and not panic.

She tired to sound casual, "Really?" Maye's mind screamed at her to 'Be calm' but it did not seem to work. She did not need this right now. Did not need this at all.

"Someone who's all man." His husky, suggestive words seemed to make something click within her.

"You think I need a man?", she asked, voice rising in the suddenly quiet tavern. "Let me tell you something – I've already got one. He's up there lying in an infirmary bed. He only woke two days ago and you think I need a man? Do you know what I really want? I want to know why the bloody hell he had to go and attack the Saxon leader? The man had nothing to prove, to me or anyone else in this horrible place. And I want answers, because I thought this was all over. We made a deal! And suddenly my lover decides to do something heroic or selfish or selfless and we're nowhere at all, because he's awake but he's not talking -to me at least- and by the Gods, I want answers. And you think I need a man?"

Maye was not aware that as soon as her emotional voice had pierced the low murmuring of the tavern, all else had stopped. She had not realised that Bors, Gawain and Galahad had come to stand protectively behind her. She was not aware of any of this. Maye was angry - very angry. She felt a hand on her shoulder and whirled to face this new attacker, only to find Gawain.

"Maye." He managed to get one word out before she seemed to hurl herself into his chest and began to sob hopelessly.

Exchanging glances with the others, he quickly hustled her outside. Galahad joined him in a moment, leaving Bors to have words with the man. Although, it had looked as if he had certainly got more than he bargained for.

Maye's sobs had not stopped and she seemed unwilling to detach herself from Gawain, so he simply stood with her cradled in his arms, while she sobbed into his shoulder.

They both tried talking to her. But nothing seemed to work and if anything her cries became even louder and more distressing

"Let's take her to the scout." Galahad said, beginning to lead the way through the fort.

They entered the infirmary to find Arthur sitting between the beds of Tristan and Lancelot. Though it was late, both were sitting up and the room was well lit. While Galahad held the door open, Gawain quickly moved inside and went to place Maye on the bed next to Tristan. At this stage she seemed to be shaking her head and mumbling something repeatedly. Gawain, mindful of Tristan's injuries, gently placed her on the bed, at his side. After a short questioning glance at Gawain, who shook his head briefly, Tristan placed an arm around her shaking shoulders and smoothed her dishevelled hair.

When he looked up, his face held the determined, deadly mask they knew so well. "What happened?"

Galahad related what they had seen, while being careful to avoid reference to any of Maye's speech.

"What did she say to him?" Lancelot asked curiously.

Galahad looked uncomfortable. He really did not want to be the one to break this to Tristan. "Well… she made it clear she wasn't interested in his attentions."

Unexpectedly, Gawain began chuckling. "I believe the words, 'And you think I need a man?' featured several times." He mimicked her incredulous tone perfectly.

Lancelot gave a shout of laughter, while Arthur looked stunned, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Tristan was torn between anger and fear. They were really the first strong emotions he had felt since the battle. Even waking up in the infirmary had not provoked any strong feelings. Sure, he was in pain a lot of the time, but it was as if everything else was experienced through a haze that dulled his senses and clouded his mind. But now… He had not been there to protect her. But then it did sound like she had handled the situation. Unusually, but she was unscathed and that was all that mattered. When Gawain had first come in with Maye cradled in his arms, Tristan had thought for just a moment that… It was one of the few times he had felt such overwhelming dread. Then, when Gawain had nodded that she was fine, he had been attacked by anger both at himself and her unknown suitor.

He continued to soothe her while also listening to Gawain and Galahad's description of events. What exactly did she mean by 'And you think I need a man'?

Gawain continued to describe the incident, taking particular note of the faces around the tavern when Maye had called the fort a horrible place and said that Tristan had nothing to prove to anyone in it.

Arthur, a large smile still gracing his features, nodded in appreciation, "And of course they all know that she's right."

There was an audible shuffling of blankets and after a moment Maye's face emerged, blotchy and tearstained. Voice scratchy and rough, she asked in horror, "I didn't did I?"

Gawain continued chuckling. "Oh yes, you should have seen their faces."

Maye again burrowed her head into the blankets. There was a muffled, "Oh Gods."

Gawain and Galahad continued their recount but Tristan was more interested in something else. He leaned down to where he suspected Maye's head was and whispered, "Maye?"

There was a low moan in response.

"Why?"

There was silence for a long moment and then he felt the blankets begin to shift and Maye's head again slowly emerged. When she looked at him her eyes were sad. "I lost it. I was angry."

Tristan had not expected that. Was she angry with him or someone else? How did that work? Most women did not act like this. Maye had always confused him. In fact, when Bors was injured, Vanora clucked over him like a mother hen. It was the only time that they did not fight with each other. He wasn't sure he understood.

Maye saw his confusion and tried to explain. "I've been angry for a while. I mean it was all so simple – one more mission and then, nothing. You could make your own life. But then that bloody Bishop and all this happened and then…" She stopped, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, trying to hold back. She needed to get this out. When Maye opened her eyes again she kept them lowered. Her voice was softer, "It was all meant to be so simple. We had a deal and maybe a future and there would be no more waiting for you to come back."

She smiled almost bitterly and looked up. The others had stopped talking in an effort to catch Maye's soft words. She now included them all in her gaze, "Did you know that Vanora and I used to joke that our men had it easier than any others in the fort – all they ever had to do to make us happy was come home at the end of the day."

Tristan thought he might now, understand.

-

Thanks for reading folks. A review would be lovely!