The nights were growing darker. The stars were veiled, an unknown malice was sleeping in the east, and the pale moon let of a mysterious glow. The knights slept peacefully within their tents, but Lancelot was restless, he sat on a random tree stump next to his tent, cleaning his broad swords on an old rag. The wind rustled through his hair, and he looked up to the skies, the snow swirling around in the air.

"The stars are hidden, veiled from the sky. We only have the moon to give us light,"

Tristan sat down next to Keirai, the moonlight flickering off her face with its mysterious glow. He wrapped his arms around his knees, sighing as he turned to look at her.

"I can never understand you, you're such a mystery"

She looked at him, his deep, dark eyes staring into her own, with an indescribable passion. She smiled and looked out over the camp, it looked so beautiful under a layer of thick snow, she all of a sudden shivered, it was terribly cold on the mountain top, Tristan had led her up here on a narrow path he'd found earlier.

"You're cold"

He spoke, half whispered as he pulled his cloak off his back and placed it around her shoulders, rubbing them warmly with his hands. She leaned into his chest and he rested his chin on her head, her soft hair tickling his face.

"We will go home, we will go home…"

Lancelot sang quietly to himself, slipping his broad swords back into their scabbards. He could see Arthur leaning against a tree not too far from him, his eyes half closed and Excalibur clenched tightly in his hands.

"I love you"

Keirai looked up; Tristan was looking at her, his mysterious dark eyes full of love, his face ridden with passion.

"What? Tristan, I-"

But her words were meaningless; Tristan's lips had closed tight on her own, his soft wild hair falling over her cheeks. His hand rose up to her neck, his thumb lightly grazing her jaw line as they kissed, silhouetted against the moon.

Lancelot looked up to the sky once more, he was now standing on the border of the small forest they had made camp within, his eyes cast upon the mountains. They flickered back and forth and he turned to leave when he saw it, Keirai's figure outlined against the dark sky, her arms around some man, some stranger. He stepped forward and saw, it couldn't be…Tristan. His eyes flared with madness as he grabbed his bow from his back, and fixed an arrow to the string.

"I will strike you down, remember this feeling Tristan, for her fair and untouched lips will be the last thing you ever feel…"

He whispered and pulling back his bowstring fired.

Tristan cried silently as the arrow pierced the left side of his chest, Keirai left speechless as he fell from her hold, his body growing cold.

"Tristan! Speak to me"

She cried, holding her face in his hands, when all of a sudden she saw Lancelot appear at the top of the secret pathway, his bow in hand.

"I never miss"

He hissed, his eyes flaring with happiness and enthusiasm. Keirai pulled the arrow from Tristan's breast, throwing it aside. She kissed his trembling lips and whispered softly to him, 'I love you' slowly before standing up and lunging at her cousin.

"How dare you strike him down?! What's wrong with you Lancelot!?"

"He took advantage of you, he had to die!"

"I love him Lancelot! I love Tristan and if he does not live, no form of re birth or god will save you again when you find your way to hell!"

Her hands were clenched tight round his throat, her thumbs pressing down on his wind pipe. He stuttered to breath when all of a sudden Keirai was knocked off him, Galahad helping him too his feet. Giving up on her attempt of murder she crawled over to Tristan, pushing back his soft fringe from his face and staring into his eyes. He was freezing, his skin seemed to be buried under a thick layer of ice and he made no movement, Keirai though could hear short and deep breaths emitting from his half open mouth. She pulled him up into her arms, cradling him lovingly, tying his cloak around the wound, stifling the blood flow.

Arthur looked over at them, confused as were the other knights. Guinevere though pushed passed them, kneeling down next to the lovers and ripping Tristan's shirt from his masculine torso, starting to clean and dress the wound.

"He's fading fast, I should be able to save him, but I'm going to need your help"

She said, looking at Keirai, who nodded lifting Tristan up, exposing the wound openly so Guinevere could heal it. Lancelot began to walk down the path, Arthur following him.

"Why did you do that? Don't try and say you didn't shoot him Lancelot the arrow next to Tristan's body was of your style, you struck him down"

"He touched Keirai; he took advantage of her untouched and fragile body. I will not let her be treated like that"

"They are in love Lancelot; I could see it from the look in her eyes when she was holding his body up there on the mountaintop. You were trying to help her Lancelot I know that, but through your actions you may have taken the one thing in life now to her, which is irreplaceable."

Lancelot paused, Arthur was right, he had just killed the one thing in life, possibly, that meant more to her than he did himself. What had he done?

"I can't save him, but I will help in any way I can. I can't help but be protective of Keirai, she's all I have, and until tonight, or maybe longer I was all she had. If she stopped caring about me, if she left us I don't know what I'd do."

"Don't worry Lancelot, he's in good hands. Just rest now, everything will be alright, go"

Lancelot walked over to the forest camp where he climbed into his small bed, trying his best to sleep, the guilt forever growing on his conscience.