Dellis and LANCELOTTRISTANBABY: Thanks for reviewing. I hope you like this chapter; it's a small one but I'm rather fond of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie King Arthur, nor do I or would I attempt to profit from writing about them. Also, I am broke and in debt, so if you want to sue me, good luck with that.

Rating: M for mature content.

Damara looked out the window of the room where she was now ensconced at Hadrian's Wall. As well as charging Ganis with keeping her safe from the Roman soldier who harbored her such ill-will, Tristan had given him instruction to have Damara housed in the knights' wing of the keep. It had originally housed many knights, but as they fell, the rooms became vacant and were mostly kept that way, except as the remaining Sarmatians saw fit to use them. There was ample room in the wing and the Roman would not have easy access to her.

She had not yet seen Tristan or any of the other knights since they had returned – they were grieving their lost brother and she did not expect she would. She would seek him out the next morning to offer her condolences, as meager as they were. For now, Damara was glad for the chance to get washed up and put on a clean shift, after which she sank down on the bed and succumbed to exhaustion.

Tristan staggered back from the tavern headed for his quarters. He was drunk; they all were. It had been a somber evening – it was too soon for fond remembrances of Dagonet, all they could do was mourn his loss in anger. Tomorrow they would be burying a man who should have been free to go on with his life.

Tristan tried not to feel much anymore. Death had haunted them all for fifteen years. There had been too many lost brothers for far too long. After long practice, not feeling had become second nature. He observed and in his own way, he mourned. He tried to maintain a practical attitude – everyone was going to die and the only thing that mattered was the manner of your death. By that measure, Dagonet had had a death to be proud of. But this time the loss felt different. Dagonet had been so close to his freedom and finally being able to have some sort of life. The unfairness and cruelty of that life being snatched from him just when it was about to begin was incomprehensible.

He could find little comfort in the company of the other knights. He watched as they grieved together, grew angry and cried. He could do none of that. He'd always kept himself apart from their rituals of grief, and could not start now, at the end. Too restless to simply observe in loneliness, he left the tavern for the familiarity and solitude of his own company.

He reeled into his room and began to disrobe. He took off his shirt and sat down heavily on his bunk. He realized that while he did not want the company of the other knights, being completely alone in his grief was intolerable. He thought about finding a woman, but the thought of his usual impersonal encounters left him cold. He wanted something more. Warmth, understanding – something. He'd feel better going to the stable and grooming his horse. There was a tranquility he felt in the company of his animals that he never felt with his own kind.

Damara abruptly came to mind and he sat up on the bed. He hadn't thought of her or seen her since they'd returned, and only hoped that Ganis had done as he'd been instructed. He suddenly felt the need to see her very badly. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbed a lantern and walked uncertainly out the door.

After checking several empty rooms, he found one with a fire burning in the fireplace. He walked in and stood by her bed, watching her sleep.

"Damara!" he called softly. He whispered her name again.

Her eyes opened slightly. "Tristan? Is that you?" she asked sleepily. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Oh, Tristan!" she said sympathetically. "How have you been? I wanted to see you before, but I did not want to intrude." She got out from under the covers and kneeled on the bed. "Come, sit here beside me."

Tristan did as she asked, and she placed her hand on his cheek. "I'm so sorry about Dagonet. He was such a good, kind man." He could not meet her eyes, which were searching his face. He looked down, unwilling to show the pain that he felt.

"How are the others doing?" Damara asked.

"Doing alright – they're at the tavern."

"Tristan? Look at me."

Tristan shook his head and refused to meet her gaze.

"Come here, it's all right," Damara murmured, enfolding him in her arms. He buried his face in her neck and clung tightly to her. She held him close and stroked his hair, and soon great choking sobs wracked his body, and he held her ever tighter. She rocked him while she whispered soothing words and kissed his hair. Slowly his tears subsided, but he continued to cling to her. His face was buried in her neck, surrounded by her hair and he breathed in the soft scent of her. He was suddenly conscious of her softness against him, and of her skin against his mouth.

Damara became intensely aware of Tristan,and that her hands were caressing his bare back. His breathing against her neck became more measured, and by his sudden stillness she felt he was aware of her as well. Her heart started to pound, and she felt a curious fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach. She slid her hands around to the front of him, against his chest. Whether it was to caress him or to push him away, she wasn't sure. She felt the mat of hair on his chest and had an urge to run her fingers through it.

Suddenly Tristan let go of her and stood up. "I am disturbing your sleep – I must go now."

Damara let out the breath she did not know she'd been holding. She got out of bed and looked up at him. "Are you sure you'll be alright? If you need to talk a while longer I don't mind." She touched his arm, and was startled when he pulled away from her. He looked at her and his eyes blazed.

"No – I have to leave now." He turned and walked unsteadily to the door. When he got there, he leaned heavily against the doorjamb. "Or I won't be leaving at all," He said, under his breath.

After Tristan left, Damara's nerves were a-jangle. She could not sleep and spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning. Finally after several hours she fell back into a restless sleep.

TBC