Six

((a long one too... but interseting))

"..Like I said before, aim for the middle." Tristan held a cup of water and pointed wildly at the tree trunk, he, Galahad and Gawain had been tossing daggers at, in hopes to pass the hours of the night. The towns people in their wagons had fallen asleep, and with each few hours passing, the men took turns keeping guard. Bors was sleeping on the wheel well of a wagon, with the boy Dagonet once claimed as his own crying under his blanket. A woman came to his aid, and Galahad nodded to her when she entered the wagon. Bors nearly awoke, but after a few grunts, he fell back asleep.

"The middle is nearly impossible." Galahad mumbled while standing next to the tree, his eyes inspecting each aspect of the daggers. Gawain stood up, reaching for the last dagger in Tristan's had he flicked his wrist, and it drove past Galahad's face, and in the middle of the daggers, not on top of the either.

"Nothing is impossible Galahad." Gawain said half heartedly, he scratched his lengthy beard and reached at the bottom of the tree behind him, and took a sip of water.

Snowflakes fell through the cracks of the branches, and slowly began to build onto the ground. The cold air filled around them, with the only warmth from the fire.

"Where is Arthur?"

"Scouting I'm sure." Tristan said before taking another sip. Gawain sat back down before tossing another dagger in his palm, catching the handle end every time. Galahad shook his head.

"Show off." It had been rather quiet since the events of the morning, and even though Dagonet's body was only a few yards away, they tried to make the best of their time guarding the people. "Tristan, what are the odds of the Saxon's catching up?" Galahad looked to Tristan, whom flubbed a braid from his face.

"Slim, but Saxon's have a way of their armies. They don't rest at night." Tristan paused when Gawain looked up, now Tristan had his attention too. "Won't worry, 'figure we'll be back to the out post before they catch up."

Gawain blinked and his eyes flashed at Galahad, his face looked angry just like the time Arthur told him he had yet again another mission. He was still upset. With the fire sizzling near them, that was the only thing making any noise after Tristan's voice.

Lancelot made his seat at the tree trunk suitable, dusting all the snowflakes from his position, keeping his cold breath under control, he watched the shadows in the dark move. He was sure Woads where about, of course, Arthur had one of their own. And with Merlin being the tricky one he is, Lancelot would almost bet Woad where staring at them right now. But in the mean time, he sat guard, on the edge of the camp.

Lana took a deep breath before finally using her feet, hearing her aging knees crack wasn't good, for being 24 years of age, it shouldn't be a normal sound to hear. But then again, her life wasn't normal.

Her bare toes where now laced in lone snowflakes, melting into a cold dripping fluid and cooling her warm feet. The small twinkle of moonlight within the tree branches flashed in the corner of her eyes with each step she took, stepping away from the wagon, and the perimeter of the camp. She didn't feel like being in this cage which Arthur seemed to love putting her in. No one would ever understand their relationship, he was the typical brother, and a savior all in one.

All the choices she made had gone wrong, especially when she fought to have her own way, it seemed to fly back in the mistaken direction. She'd worked so hard to be accepted, and to be treated as one of their own knights, but she was still under Arthur's thumb. It wasn't always a bad thing, but the reasons he was in the wagon was Arthur's doing, the reason she was in Rome was Arthur's doing as well.

Maybe she was overreacting, and all of this was just anger mixed with the pain of never hearing Dagonet's voice again. Still, she wanted to think alone.

Before she could take another step, she saw a sight in which she was sure would have happened sooner or later. Guinevere, and her body in a red cape, standing within inches of Arthur, their eyes, twirling together in their own world. Lana couldn't help but give a tiny grin. Possibly Guinevere could get Arthur to lighten up. Hiding behind a large tree, Lana stepped back, her bare feet smashing with the earths skin. When Guinevere's hand lifted up and grazed Arthur's cheek, Lana turned around, to find a new place to explore.

The farther she got, the lighter her head seemed to react, gripping a nearby tree, Lana closed her eyes. A late reaction to all that she'd endured the last few weeks.

"Looks like you should be back in bed." Lana rapidly unfastened her eyes, Lancelot. She knew that voice anywhere. But when she saw him stand up and walk over, it wasn't that standard look he had, and that tone he'd used. If her memory suited her right, it was the man she fell in love with. Compassion was overwhelming his eyes, dripping from the corners of his lips, and when his hand was placed on the small of her back to help her up Lana flexed her arms.

"Bed is not what I need nor want." She garbled turned suddenly, she found her back to the tree trunk, and Lancelot, closer to her face than he'd been in five years. His jaw was hanging in a strong, but curious manner. Like a sorcerer, their eyes locked onto one another's like it was a trap.

"Resting will stop the spinning, and won't cause you to need a tree for standing." Lancelot gripped her biceps in hope she wouldn't fall.

"Resting does nothing for the mind." Lana replied. Lancelot licked his lips, he could tell she was upset over Dagonet, she was more attached than possibly any of the men, that was common in woman, Lancelot presumed.

"At least you'll be able to walk." Lancelot gave that boyish grin, it was rarely seen, but with the words leaving his lips, they countered with his handsome smile.

He had done it, she was still captivated by that smirk, and after a moments of heavy breath, simultaneously their faces leaned in, his lips grazed hers for only a moment, until they both turned.

His face moved back, and their eyes found each other, Lana lowered her stare.

"Our time passed, five years ago." She whispered, Lancelot closed his mouth, and snapped out of whatever caused his personality shift, his feet followed him back to where he once sat.

"You might want to hurry,"

"Do me a favor, never speak of this moment." Lana requested in a vaguely kind tone.

"Will you're lover be angry?" Lancelot retorted.

"No, Arthur will ship me off again," Her smile twisted as Lancelot gave her a inquiring look. He wasn't sure what she meant, but Lancelot was good at finding the bread crumbs, and it didn't take long before he turned his face, and connected back with the obscure darkness.

Five daggers in the dirt and Galahad still couldn't accomplish was Gawain was about master. Each one he threw was getting closer and closer to the handle of another dagger. Tristan blinked for a few moments, slept, then woke again, staring in front of him, past the flames.

"Arthur?" Galahad asked while sighting at what Tristan was so intrigued with, he knew it was one of the men, only one of their own could be so quiet.

"Close enough," Glowing like several candles in a dark hall, her face was lit barely but the flames yards ahead, but once fully in the light Galahad's face turned stern as Gawain stood up.

"You should be resting." Galahad told her.

"Shhh." Lana replied while watching Gawain stand straight, taking a couple steps and watching her walk pass the fire. "I'm fine."

"Swaying when you walk isn't fine."

"Sleeping all day isn't my favorite past time either. Now shush Galahad, or that dagger will go straight to your ass." Lana looked at him with a cold stare, then smiled sarcastically, she would never stab Galahad. "Besides, I don't see my damn mother here, and best you two stop acting like it."

"Here here." Tristan applauded with lifting his dagger, and aiming for the tree. Gawain met Lana half way, and saw her bare feet, and the light amount of clothing she wore. He nodded his head to their right, and spoke.

"Lets get you something for your feet, and a blanket." Gawain told her, he wait for her to move, and after he gave her a rough stare, she did. As they walked side by side, once far enough, Gawain continued. "You need proper rest. Sooner the better."

"I'd rather be awake. Sleeping gives me memories and dreams I'm not willing to see yet." Lana kicked around the dirt with her toes, at this point, she could feel them. Gawain cocked his mouth and removed his blanket, and placed it over Lana, once it touched her shoulders, she looked up and closed her mouth. She knew better than to tell Gawain what to do. Once he draped her body in his own blanket, he pressed his hands on her shoulders, causing her eyes to look into his.

"If you want to fight again, you need to sleep." He knew in order for her to listen, he had to have something of importance to her to wager. And the fact that she was truly happy in battle, with her perfectly sharpened sword and dagger, she would pay attention. "Please Lana, don't argue this. I'll go find Arthur and make him tell you what to do. We all know how much you love that." Smirking, she clutched his armor, pulling him closer to her. His rasping laughter was lowered when she rested her head on his chest. She giggled as well, and once looking up at him, she kissed his lips lightly, the far fire flickering in the distance seemed like a dot as Gawain welcomed her lips to his. His cold hand rubbed her cheek until her laughter interrupted their moment. He as well began to laugh, and releasing her lip, she held her face with a grin. "What?"

"You're trying so hard to keep me warm, yet your hands are freezing," She smirked, but Gawain kept his hands still, and sighed while staring into her big brown tender eyes. He wanted everyone to know, he wanted Arthur to know, but Lana was against it. He loved her deeply, and he wanted more than a relationship behind everyone's back, he wanted a family.

"Yes well once you promise to get back into that wagon and sleep, then I shall remove my cold hands." Lana reached up and gripped his fingers, then whispered.

"Come, lay with me. And I shall promise I will sleep." Gawain tilted his head, ready to change the stipulations. "But, if I awake, and you have vanished, Sir Gawain I will repay you in the worst way." Lana said in a teasing tone, Gawain thought of her proposition, and drew a heavy breath.

"Really, and when I don't return back to the fire with Tristan and Galahad, what will they say?" Gawain asked rhetorically.

"Who cares, come." Pulling his palm, she lead him to the wagon in which she woke, Guinevere was no longer in there, she was with Arthur, so they had an entire wagon to themselves. Gawain followed, with a smirk of his own.

"If I get in trouble, your taking the blame," He laughed, Lana shook her head and opened the flap to the wagon, with Gawain following her steps.