Thanks to all the reviewers!

Fourteen

Lancelot's dark bedroom eyes followed Percival as he walked over to and sat by Tristan. He silently watched them coverse in whispers, their movements, their gestures, everything. He suddenly felt like a hawk watching his prey. After awhile, he noticed Tristan turned over, probably to sleep, as Percival sat near him. His gaze wandered aimlessly over the younger knight, who's eyes seemed completely fixed upon the sleeping scout.

After he was sure Tristan was asleep, Lancelot rose from his bedroll and made his way over to where Percival sat. As he approached, Percival quickly turned his attention from Tristan to Lancelot.

Standing, Percival whispered, "Lancelot, what can I do for you?"

"I've come to take watch; you go to bed," he said.

"I've slept all ready, and I've just taken over the watch, too," Percival answered.

Lancelot's gaze on Percival intensified. "Go to bed, Percival."

The younger knight held up his hands in defense.

"I have no quarrel here with you. What is this all about anyway?" he wondered.

Lancelot brought himself to say things he thought he never would, but it was necessary. "You know damn well what this is about. Tristan. I've been with him longer than you or anyone. I've taken care of him when he was hurt. Just because you came along, doesn't give you the right to have claim on him."

"I haven't taken anything from you. Tristan is a man, not a possession; he is not yours to claim either," Percival retorted.

"Damn it, man, I'm telling you to stand down!" Lancelot said.

There was a stir from Tristan; the two froze in their place. Once he settled again, the knights resumed their arguement.

"And if I don't stand down? What are you going to do, Lancelot? What do you think you are really going to do?" Percival's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't give him up that easily."

As Lancelot raised his finger to him, there was yet another stir from the otherside of camp.

"Shut it up over there, tryin' to sleep!" came Bors' sleepy voice.

Lancelot turned back to Percival, who took no action to move from where he stood. The fire in Percival's eyes was like lightning from the sky. His determined face nearly mirrored Lancelot's.

Then, another voice came in a whisper, "Both of you go to bed."

The two knights peered over and saw Tristan was now crouched on the ground, and was packing his supplies for morning. His eyes narrowly peered through his mass of dark hair. As he chewed on a bit, he repeated, "Go to bed. It'll be an early start this coming morning."

The younger knights were speechless. Had Tristan heard their conversation or not? They dared not to say anymore, but left and went to their seperate bedrolls. Tristan took a moment more where he sat, before standing. Slinging his things over his shoulder, he marched away from the restless campsite into the early dawn to go scouting before the others awoke.

When dawn arrived the knights restlessly shuffled about the campsite. Gawain and Galahad cleaned up the camp while Dagonet cooked breakfast. Arthur was surveying their location, while Bors still snored on his bedroll. Lancelot and Percival had been given the task of watering and feeding horses, and making sure everything was in order. They never once looked at or spoke to one another.

Galahad nudged Gawain's shoulder and nodded towards Lancelot and Percival.

"What's wrong with those two?" he asked the long-haired knight.

"I'm not sure. They haven't spoke to each other at all this morning," he answered.

Bors, who had finally managed to get up and make his way over for breakfast chuckled lightly. "Talkin' about those squawking birds, eh? I heard them fighting over one thing or another before dawn."

"What about?" Dagonet wondered, biting into his bread.

"Hell if I know! I told them to shut up cuz I was tryin' to sleep. All's I saw was Tristan say something to them; the two went to bed, and Tristan went out again," Bors answered, grabbing some meat off the slab by the cooking fire. "Then I was asleep again."

Arthur heard the knights conversation as he came over to them. "Well, never you mind those three. Whatever it is, they'll work it out."

Bors rolled his eyes and continued to eat.

"Arthur, how long until we reach home, do you think?" Galahad asked, sitting forward.

The commander looked toward the horizon, and then back at the knights.

"I'm not entirely sure. A few days maybe, as long as the woads stay away, that is," Arthur replied.

Bors smirked. "Guess that means we should shoot for a week, eh?"

"Bors, just eat and shut up," Gawain said with a smile. "Huh, I never thought I'd hear myself tell Bors to eat. Must be getting old."

"Naw, not old. Just ugly!" Bors slapped his belly and laughed. "But, I'll keep my stomach here anyday."

Galahad practically choked on his food. "Yeah, a real ladies' man, huh?"

Gawain pointed to the first knight, who still was avoiding Percival and the rest. "No, Lancelot's the ladies' man of us all, right, Lancelot!"

Lancelot barely looked up at the laughing knights. When he did, though, he caught sight of Percival who gave him a dirty look along with a deep-throated chuckle.

Then, he said, "Boy, do they have you figured out wrong."

Lancelot finished saddling his horse, but didn't look up at Percival. "Just forget it, all right? Who knows what Tristan all heard last night, fool!"

"It'd be better if he had heard it all. Then, maybe he would really see the other side of Lancelot, the not so charming side," Percival snapped.

Lancelot dropped what he was holding and stormed over to Percival. "Well, if you would have backed off, none of this would've happened!"

"You started it, friend, so don't take it out on me!"

"Don't call me 'friend.' I'm no friend of yours."

"You really are narrow-minded and selfish, aren't you?"

"At least I am a real man who can admit when I'm wrong!"

"Because you are wrong, that's why! I won't just go away, you know. I'm not leaving, so get used to it."

As the two knights were practically at one another's throats now, Arthur called out to them.

"That's enough, knights!" he shouted. "Get yourselves together. We leave once Tristan returns."

Lancelot straightened his sleeves and shirt as he scowled at Percival. Percival shot Lancelot a sour look in return. This was not over. Not by a long shot.

Tristan sat in the branches of an apple tree he had found. The tree contained no apples at this time of year, yet Tristan found it appealing that there would be a fruit tree in these parts of the land. After scouting, he had climbed the tree and sat there still and silent for hours. It was a time for Tristan to be able to think about things. He had thought everything was going as well as they could, until in fact, he heard Lancelot and Percival's arguement the previous night. He wasn't about to let the knights know what he knew, for they would most likely know soon enough. He didn't know what to do about the situation. He cared for both knights to an extent, maybe Percival a little more on the side of friendship, though.

He sighed heavily and relaxed his tensed body up against the tree trunk. How could he tell the two the way he felt. He was not good with emotions and the like. How could he tell Lancelot and Percival that he did not love either, for he loved another? He had only one love, and he knew it was something that he must tell both the knights at the same time.

The sun was rapidly climbing over the treetops. Tristan knew it was time to go back once again. With Illiana flying overhead, Tristan climbed down the tree and rode bck to camp. He would tell Lancelot and Percival that night, his decision. What else could be done? This was the only thing he could do.

End, 'Fourteen.'