MedievalWarriorPrincess, Morwen22, XantheCorvinus and Lucilla my heartfelt thanks & appreciation, as always, to you all for reviewing Chapter 6.

I am thrilled that you all are enjoying this and still reading it! Glad Gawain made you laugh, Lucilla! I always see him as an extremely lovable and irresistible ladies man! XantheCorvinus, Im speechless! Thank you so very much for the wonderful complement. MWP, Arthur, I always imagine as a rather lonely man at this time of his life(this is before Guinney!) so I thought that he wouldn't really understand how important having a constant, loving relationship could be for his men and only see the possible negatives.(what do you think?) That line about 'Tristan of all people' made me smile too, I could just see the comical look of despair on Arthur's face when he found out! Thanks to you, my friend, for all your support.

Chapter 7

'A difficult man with a difficult life.' He had said to her once, many, many months ago. Never a truer word spoken, but she had known that from the first moment she set eyes on him and she had accepted those circumstances without question.

But still, this did not ease the loneliness and fear that cursed Prue's heart every time she watched him ride away upon his faithful grey stallion - his hawk on his arm, flapping her wings and squawking her displeasure as he urged his mount into a canter. The last sound of his voice she would hear was always his low, gentle murmurs of reassurance as the bird settled herself down into the rhythm of the horse's strides. This familiar scene always made Prue smile, despite her sadness and she would pray to them both to bring her man home safely once more.

How desperately she had missed him. He had been away almost two weeks - much longer than his usual solitary scouting trips, and Prue had been particularly more low and weary than ever this time. She mourned his absence every hour of every day, never knowing when or even if he would return. Loving this man was torture, but to be without him now, she knew, would prove her life not worth the living.

Prue lay nestled against her lover's taut, warm body. Impatiently she had watched the shadows of their tiny room twist and shrink away slowly with the rising of the dawn sun. She had lain as such for what seemed an eternity, despite her tiredness, with sleep far from her reach as it always was when Tristan returned to her side from his journeys away.

She listened to the sound of his breathing - gentle and low, rising and falling in perfect harmony with her own. She longed to see those brown eyes of his eyes open. Longed to hear his voice, see his smile, and feel his strong and loving hands upon her again. But he was exhausted. She knew that. He had ridden like the devil to get back to her side, as he always did.

Prue reached up and tenderly stroked away the locks that fell across his heavy lashes. Hoping secretly, that the gentle caress may stir him. His long hair was grubby and matted, his face still bore the toil of his arduous journey, but even so, she thought how beautiful he looked lying there. He was so peaceful, the hard lines upon his rugged features were smooth and relaxed making him appear a mere young boy.

Prue considered him lovingly for a while. Tristan was still the same old Tristan he had always been when they were in the company of others. He was by nature, deliberately undemonstrative when it came to the question of emotions; this was a habit that could not be expected to change. Prue had grown to understand and except it over time. Although it had been difficult for her at first. His reserve when they were in the tavern together for instance, had confused and upset her to begin with. She could not comprehend how, just a short while ago in their room, he had been showering her with his love and the next, so distant.

But she had quickly begun to recognise the looks across the crowded room, the hidden smile and tenderness glimmering in his eyes that shone only for her. These always served as constant reassurance of his devotion and she finally came to realise, just what the love they shared together really meant to him. Their moments alone were his haven, the one time when he truly forgot the nightmare that had been his life until she had tiptoed into his heart, bringing with her, the gift of unconditional love and trust.

They were as unlike as the sun and moon. He being quiet, thoughtful and reserved. She being full of laughter and chattering endlessly. But just like the sun and moon, together they were perfect and complete.

Tristan had only one fear in his life now - that she would be taken away from him. He truly believed if it were known to others how much she truly meant to him, then she would be stolen away somehow. Everything he had ever cared for in his life had been taken from him: His mother, his homeland, his childhood, his freedom. That's why he had to protect her so fiercely and to display to all, his impenetrable defence of indifference, was the only way he knew how. All that mattered to him was that she knew she was his world, that he lived for her and for her alone, that he would die for her.

Being alone with Prue, Tristan's defences would crumble away and his soul became hers to command. Such was his trust in her. When ill temper shadowed his brow, she would laughingly pull at his braids and kiss away the frown, coaxing him with child-like affection until he could hold the humour no more. A smile would form at the corner of his mouth and his dark eyes begin to dance.

"Give over, woman!" He would proclaim with mock annoyance, pulling her into his arms and showering her with kisses. "You'll have me a soft old crone before I know it, I swear!"

He loved to hear Prue's cheerful chatter, it always amused him. Often so innocent and carefree and he, most often replying when required but seldom engaging in long conversation, much preferring to just listen to the sound of her voice.

His quietness never alarmed Prue; she understood his nature now, like no other. To her, it was just… Tristan. Yes, he was a difficult man, but he had not won her heart with words.

Prue sighed; it was no good, he would sleep for hours yet. She decided to slip out and bring some food. She knew he would be starving; he wouldn't have eaten last night and from the looks & smell of him he most definitely hadn't bathed either. She would go to the village market and be back before he stirred, she was sure of it. Reluctantly easing herself from his arms, she stepped out of their bed and pulled her frock over her head. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair as she stepped across Tristan's discarded weapons & clothes.

She then grabbed her leather purse and basket from the table and crept quietly out of the door.

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It was still very early and a beautiful morning. Prue bounced along swinging her basket, despite her lingering fatigue. She passed by the stables, through the courtyard and off down the short trail that led to the market square by the village.

All was beginning to stir now and life starting to busy away as it always did in the community. As she reached the square, the market was already bustling. She spent her time moving from one stall to the next, carefully picking out the ripest fruit & freshest bread she could. When finally satisfied with her choices, she turned to leave, eager to get back to her lovers side. But as she did so, she heard a voice call out to her though the lively market noise.

It was Vanora. They called out a friendly greeting to one another as she strolled over to Prue.

"You're up and about early Prue. I left the two boys snorin' away with Bors. Just fancied at bit a fresh air, I've been awful sick with this one" She said rubbing her swollen belly. "I reckon this one will be a girl, I never once felt this way, before! I hope it won't be like this for the next two moons, it's bloody awful, and my back, it's so painful!"

Prue smiled sympathetically and gave her friend a loving hug. As she let her go, she saw Vanora looking over her shoulder, her nose wrinkling up as she turned her attention back to her friend.

"I see he's back then" Vanora commented in a dull voice.

Vanora didn't like Tristan, never had. She was at a complete loss to understand what on earth her friend saw in him. To her, he was nothing more than an unnatural, filthy brute and she genuinely worried about Prue. Even Bors's protests to the contrary were not enough to budge her mulish attitude and who should know Tristan better than he? Vanora could not believe that the Scout was actually capable of loving anything and therefore was sure that her friend was nothing more than a passing amusement for him and one he didn't have to pay for, at that! She'd heard the whores laughing about Prue and gossiping about what a relief it was that he no longer visited any of them! Well at least someone was happy, she had thought to herself.

It didn't help her opinions of Tristan any, that Prue had chosen him over Dagonet, either. That just beggared belief! The pain it had caused Dagonet fair near broke Vanora's heart. She was enormously fond of the big man, well all of the knights really-except him- so that just gave her even more excuse to dislike him.

"Yes, he is!" Prue enthused, her face lighting up "How did you know?"

"Because of you're pale, 'I didn't get much sleep last night' look. That and the fact he's over there, lurkin' away by the fruit cart." Vanora answered flatly.

"What!" Prue exclaimed, turning around to look in the direction her friend had nodded. Her eager eyes darted from one place to the next but Tristan was no where to be seen.

"He's snuck off round the back now!" Vanora replied slightly irritated and unimpressed.

Prue laughed and shook her head fondly. She should have known! He often did that. He liked to follow her around the markets, through the forests, around the keep, all over in fact. If she ever spied him it was because he wanted her too. But most times, when he finally pounced upon her, it was completely by surprise and usually scared poor Prue half to death. Tristan had a considerable enthusiasm for playing such games. It suited his humour and as he told her frequently, she was a much more satisfying prey to hunt than Woads.

Vanora, on the other hand, thought it perverse.

"He must have been awake all the time!" Prue mused light-heartedly.

"I don't know how you put up with it?" Vanora growled. "Spying on you all the time, it's unnatural if you ask me. He's unnatural!"

Prue just laughed "He's not spying on me, Vanora. He's just being…well…being 'Tristan' that's all! I can't help it if he can't keep his hands off me!" She chuckled "It's just a bit of fun, Vanora. You and Bors ought to try it sometime!"

"Huh!" retorted Vanora with a shudder. The thought of Tristan's hands on anyone was enough to put her off her broth. "It's not normal…. I can't help it Prue, the way I feel. He always seems so moody & unpredictable to me, I worry about you, that's all."

"Well don't! You have no need, believe me. You just don't know him as I do."

"No, I do not, thank the Gods! What do you see in him, girl?" Vanora asked despairingly.

Prue smiled and twisted her mouth in mock consideration. "Hhhhmmmm…….let me think…..it must be his inspiring gift for conversation!"

Both girls fell about laughing. Prue's tolerant humour, completely dispelling Vanora's heavy mood.

But their laughter was short lived, being interrupted quite abruptly, by a woman's loud mocking voice shouting at Prue from across the other side of the stall were they were stood.

"'Ere Prue! How's thatscary scout of yours? Me an' the girls were just saying how we haven't had him round for a while."

'Oh no' thought Prue wearily, as she readied herself for the familiar taunt.

"Is it still 'face to the wall and open wide!" the woman cackled hysterically "As fast as a greased hog he is! Quickest coin I ever earned! Girl, you must be fair near gagging for a real man… hope he pays you well, at least!" Then she added with a low, malicious sneer "Bet you wished you'd taken Dag now, don't ya?"

The woman squawked with laughter again, joined by a few of the passers by who had caught the jibe. It was Morin, one of the prostitutes that worked their trade up around the keep.

Pillow talk – it wasn't uncommon for men to unburden their secrets upon the ears of a whore. Many sort out such women simply for the chance of a comforting shoulder. No doubt, this would be how Morin would have known about Dagonet. He would have spent many a lonely night in their arms, she was sure.

Prue pursed her lips and tried hard to ignore the searing remark as it cut painfully through her heart. It happened from time to time, she was used to it and it was no secret that Tristan had not had the most enviable reputation among the wenches. But it didn't make it any easier to hear.

Vanora on the other hand, swung round furiously and spat "Shut ya gob, you cheap trollop! Men just can't wait to be done with ya, is all! And who can blame 'em, with a face as ugly as yours?"

More laughter rippled among the market place as passers by had stopped to listen to the amusing spat. Finding the joke now turned upon herself though and much to the audience's disappointment, Morin decided against entering further into a brawl. Bullying the mousey Prue was one thing, but duelling with the hot tempered Vanora was quite another, with-child or no. She had a wickedly sharp mouth that one and more than a match for Morin. Sauntering off, she remarked acidly,

"Bitch!"

"Whore!" Vanora screamed back at the swaggering, retreating figure.

"Oh Vanora, don't! Just ignore it. She's not worth." Prue begged, beginning to feel quite mortified at the interest that began to stir among the crowds.

"No, maybe not, but you are! I'll not stand by and let the likes of her trash your man in front of ya."

Prue couldn't help but smile at the irony of those words. "Like you do, you mean"

"Yes well… I can, 'cause I'm your best friend!" Vanora began to bristle like an over-protective mother hen "I do it purely for your own good and because I love you."

Seeing a moment of sadness pass over Prue's face, she felt a sudden pang of guilt and simmering down swiftly she added "Oh Prue, I'm sorry… I shouldna talk of your man that way."

"Vanora" Prue shook her head, a slight smile returning to her lips. "I know it's only because you worry and you care….but he is a good man, you know and he does love me, truly he does"

Vanora sighed and gave her friend another hug. It was no use, she really just couldn't see it but there was no denying her friends happiness and for that she should be grateful, she knew.

"I'll see you later, my darlin'. Get off back to him then and tell him to let you get some damn rest, you look shattered… Bloody animal!" Vanora wandered off laughing aloud as Prue turned on her heel and set off back towards the Keep.

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The prostitute strolled away with her head high and an arrogant sway on her hips, not bothering herself to reply to Vanora's last insult.

'Sarmatian whores!' She thought venomously. 'At least I get coin for servicing bald headed boars and stone-hearted freaks!' She gave out a wicked laugh at the thought, revelling in her own wit.

She continued on past an inviting barrel of green shiny apples next to a fruit stall. Brazenly, she stretched out her hand and swiftly took one from the top without as much as a pause in her stride. Unnoticed, as usual, she made her way in the direction of a clutter of stone workshops further along the village and away from the marketplace – a smug, satisfied smile set firmly upon her mouth.

She bit into the firm juicy fruit, savouring its deliciously sharp taste as she wandered past the Blacksmiths. She could feel the roaring heat of the smithy's furnace embracing her body and closed her eyes, enjoying its warmth.

She did not notice the dark figure hidden in the shadows of the gully between the buildings just ahead.

The bite of apple almost lodged in the woman's throat, virtually choking her, when the powerful hand clasped brutally across her mouth.

Quick as lightening, she felt herself swung from her feet and yanked back down in to the darkness of the narrow alley.

Having no time to react, she found herself slammed, face first against the stone wall with ruthless force. Knocking the breath from her body, an almost soundless cry was all that escaped from her, as vicious fingers seized hold of her long black hair and violently wrenched back her head, twisted it to the side and then thrust her cheek back up against the wall with equal ferocity.

The weight of the body behind held her fast against the stone as the woman then spied the glint of a shining blade coming up towards her.

Her body trembled with panic. She had been a victim of violence many times before, it came with the trade, but she knew who held her now and the knowledge terrified her.

The petrified woman felt the icy tip of the razor sharp steel beginning to trail very slowly up and down her ashen cheek.

"Who's been a bad girl then?" Hearing that familiar hissing growl sent a chill racing through her soul and a single tear began to gather, and then fall from her quivering lash. The blade caught the tear at the corner of her mouth and then traced its journey back up to the dark lashes from which it came.

She gave out a moan of terror as the knife gently brushed the tiny wet hairs along the length of her lid.

The hissing whisper, once more breathed with menacing calm upon her ear. "If you ever so much as breathe the same air as her again, I will give you a face that even a blind man won't pay for. Do you understand me?"

The horrified woman let out a desperate whimper and gave a trembling nod.

"Good girl" the frighteningly calm & quiet whisper continued "I'll be watching you."

A hand then enclosed itself around the apple that she still grasped in her quivering fingers.

"Did your mama never teach you that it's a sin to steal?"

The apple was snatched from her grip and he was gone.

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Prue was trotting past the stable when the inevitable hands flew out and pulled her into the shady building.

"Tristan!" she squealed, dropping her basket as he pulled her down upon the hay in a nearby stall, throwing the remains of a half eaten apple he had been munching across the way as he did so.

There it was quickly picked up and devoured by his faithful stallion who stood in his stall now much rested and revived.

"And where did my lady think she was running off to so early in the morning, pray tell?" He leant across her and began to lovingly kiss and nuzzle her neck.

"What are you doing following me around the market, I thought you were asleep!" she said pushing him away and sitting her self back up. "I've missed you so much! Where have you been, Tristan? Were you hurt, did you eat properly, is everything alright, what happened?"

"Woman!" he exclaimed falling back on to the hay and rolling his mischievous eyes "Take a breath! You talk far too much than is good for you!"

"Well!" she replied in mock affront "Pardon me for giving a damn! Remind me not to bother, next time"

Laughing, Tristan reached back up, took hold of her shoulders and expertly eased her back down beside him. Running his hand beneath the hem of her frock, he slowly began to caress her warm, soft thighs. He looked down at her, his eyes sparkling with love and desire "You know I love to hear your yakking, but right now it is your cries of passion I want ringing my ear!"

"Oh really?" she asked with a coy smile.

"Uh huh" he murmured between the hot kisses he was now bestowing upon her face and neck "You know you can't resist me"

"Oh not here, Tristan! I don't like it in here, I get spiders in my hair and the hay gets in the most….!"

Tristan silenced her with his mouth as he gently eased himself between her parting legs. His breeches already long since untied, he slid himself deep inside her deliciously warm, moist body with a blissful groan.