Everybody assumed Day was still within the confines of her room that night. Galahad had yet to be seen either and the Knights grew anxious at the desertion of them. Tristan had gone to talk to Day, but had only got as close as standing outside her door. He had waited there for near half an hour lurking in the deserted corridor and after several failed attempts at building up the courage to knock, he had leant heavily on the door before leaving.
Galahad was in his chamber, brooding over his confrontation with Tristan. Why did none of the other Knights feel the same mistrust he did? He still remembered what happened last time and yet the others seemed to have forgotten, or pushed it out of their memories. Galahad sighed in frustration and let his head fall forward into his hands that rested upon his knees. His hands ran roughly through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed bristling. Just another one of the many bad memories that plagued him; the sense of anger and betrayal washing over him in a wordless surge. Guilt also made an appearance but Galahad tried desperately to shake it from his head. It had been his fault last time, his fault that one of the knights had died. His fists thumped down into the mattress as the recollections burned into his mind, tears of anger blurring his eyes.
They'd been out on a mission when they'd come across a lone Woad on the forest road. The woman was heavily dehydrated and stumbled in exhaustion, her body frail and painfully thin. The Knights had taken pity on her once she managed to mumble out that she'd been banished from her tribe after falling pregnant by a Roman. The child had died and she wept softly through her fatigue as she sat hunched on the front of Galahad's horse as he was the lightest.
Galahad snarled with bitterness as he fought to immerse these hauntings once more.
They had taken care of the Woad woman and she had become attached to Galahad, as he had her. Her past was of no consequence in his eyes as she had already been punished for her wrong decisions and he would never hurt her if he could help it. Their fondness of each other had grown quickly and soon they were in love. Well that was what Galahad would have called it anyway. But one night she had crept away quietly from Galahad's arms and the safety of the fort and had ran to the tribe Day had come from. She had not been ostracised from her clan, and never had she even thought of bedding a Roman; it was simply a plan. She had lulled the Knights into a false sense of security until her people were ready to strike and that they did. It was the middle of the night when the Knights were woken unceremoniously and called into battle. Galahad had been distressed at not finding her in his arm's when he awoke but had to concentrate on protecting the fort and staying alive. Out ran and the Knights and fight they did. Woads were attacking them from every side, pouring out of the darkness unrelentlessly. Galahad looked over to see one of the other Knights fighting a Woad woman viciously. He craned his neck to see who it was after a flash of golden hair had spun into his view; her hair. He ran through the throng of fighting to witness his beloved thrust her sword into his fellow Knight. The Knight fell after she had mortally wounded him; blood gargling in his throat and seeping down his armour. Galahad could do nothing more than look on in horror. Finally his instincts kicked in and anger and betrayal swept through him like a tidal wave. He ran screaming towards his beloved; his eyes shining with her treachery and his grief of having to do this and the death of his friend. He stabbed her brutally through the heart, making her feel the same pain that he did and he watched as she fell lifelessly to the floor; her keening scream haunting him to this day.
Galahad broke from his daze to find himself sobbing helplessly. Tears streamed from his eyes and he had his fists buried into the mattress in a fit of temper and anguish. He didn't want his fellow Knights to have to feel the torture he did. He staggered from the room and towards the tavern; falling against walls as he went, his body weak from his mourning. He arrived at the tavern all of a sudden, his journey there had been a blur, and lurched himself through the doors and into the crowded hostelry.
All eyes turned upon the distraught looking Knight as he made his way through the mass, stumbling as he went until he reached the Knights table.
"Galahad what's happened?" Asked Gawain with alarm as he turned to face the agitated young man.
"It was me." He choked out, staring at the Knights seated around the table.
"What was you?" demanded Dagonet with growing panic.
"Day. I was the one who upset her." Galahad spat out as his head lolled forward in distress.
Tristan growled from the other side of the table but Bors placed a muscular hand across his shoulder.
"Why Galahad, why did you do it?" pressed Arthur, his face grave and his tone severe.
"For Loire! Or have you all forgotten that already?" Galahad bellowed in tears. "For her."
The Knights were silenced by his hysterical outburst and looked down into their ales with sorrow.
"That was different." Tristan rumbled after a few moments of the silence, which was only broken by Galahad's stifled sobs.
"He's right you know Galahad." Added Gawain softly, obviously distressed by his friend's agony as his eyes had lost their normal twinkle and instead took on a hard tone.
Galahad shook his head weakly as Gawain stood from his seat and walked round to help him.
"No, no it isn't!" protested Galahad; choking on his tears and continuing to shake his head frantically.
Gawain didn't say anything as he took his friend by the shoulders and gently led him away from the tavern, although Galahad's wails echoing through the silent tavern.
Tristan pushed his mug away from his restlessly and made to stand so he could check on Day, but Arthur stopped him by grabbing the scout's hand firmly. Tristan jerked his head up to look at Arthur's gloomy face.
"She's gone. She returned to her clan for a few days earlier this afternoon." Muttered Arthur quietly, his voice laced with sorrow.
Tristan stared down at Arthur's hand which still gripped his sleeve and looked back to his commander's eyes with confusion and agitation. Arthur released Tristan's sleeve slowly and let his Knight storm out of the tavern, not bothering to try and stop him.
Gawain helped his grief-stricken friend to his chamber and placed him gently down of the bed whilst he went back to shut the door.
"It's going to happen again and someone is going to get killed. It was my fault last time." Rambled Galahad mournfully.
Gawain placed a comforting arm around the young Knight's shoulder and let him rest against him as he sobbed all of his pain out.
"It wasn't your fault Galahad, none of us knew." Murmured Gawain soothingly to his friend.
"I loved her." Wailed Galahad into Gawain broad chest. "I loved her like no other and I had to watch her die, by my sword!"
Gawain simply let Galahad relieve all of his pent-up emotions into his chest and stayed with him until he fell asleep. The hauntings of Loire had taken their toll on him; his face was drawn and stained with the trails of dried tears and his eyes were laden with bags. Gawain bade his friend goodnight in a whisper as he shut the door and walked off down the corridor.
Tristan was riding blindly through the blackened forest; his horse's hooves pounding along the dirt and whinnying wildly as Tristan veered harshly down a narrow path. He could see nothing but shadows in the unrelenting darkness and stopped briefly to try and find any sign on his whereabouts before galloping off violently again. His braids splayed across his chiselled face as the wind whipped harshly past him and his eyes were dark with mounting frustration as he thundered through the gloomy depths of the towering trees. After what seemed like an eternity he recognised a path that Day had led them down the night of the battle and he drove his horse along in; a plume of dirt and leaves flying up behind them.
He entered the village noisily and ignored the shocked and alarmed faces of the inhabitants as he jumped down from his horse. His eyes scanned the area before he stalked off up through the lanes that wound their way through the huts and up to the small hill where he and Anise had spent their night in the tent. His mouth was set in a determined fashion as he stomped towards the tent and his eyes blazed with some kind of passion. Eiger had mentioned something about the tent having been Day's which she had given up for the Knight and Lady's arrival. A Woad man tried to stop Tristan from entering the tent as the menacing scout marched towards it; shouting Celtic at him, but Tristan simply grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the ground without breaking step.
He threw back the tent flap savagely and heard Day gasp at his sudden appearance. She was sat cross-legged on one of the pellets that littered the tent and made no attempt to get up as Tristan was already making his way towards her. Her emerald eyes were wide in shock and her hair mused and ruffled in a casual fashion as he grabbed her roughly and pushed her backwards into the furs. His mouth was pressed forcefully on her's as he lowered himself down next to her in the warm furs. She grabbed him desperately and heightened the intensity of the kiss in an attempt to pull him closer to her; his hands immersed in her brown locks. When they both needed to breath, they pulled away from one another and stared fiercely into each other's eyes.
"Why did you leave?" whispered Tristan huskily, his breath playing across her skin.
"I needed time to think." She murmured back in the darkness, her fingers twisting one of his braids through her touch.
"What Galahad said had nothing to do with you. Something happened a long time ago that he was reminded of." Tristan breathed out and trailed his fingers delicately across her face, delighting in the softness of her skin.
Day breathed heavily before Tristan pulled her into another heated kiss.
A/N: Gasp! Shock shock horror horror! Poor ickle Galahad's so distraught from his lover's betrayal, you can't help but feel a bit sorry for the poor dear. And if I'm not careful I can fast see this turning into an M rated fic as I keep getting a bit carried away with myself lol. Smouldering Tristan being all possessive, you gotta love that guy! Yum! lol Thanks x