Gawain bowed is head as Arthur pushed the burning torch into the mound of twigs. It blazed merrily into the sky as those who watched grieved their friend. Soon many departed as the smoke thinned and died but Tristan still stood his head bowed against his chest. Gawain looked up and saw him there. "TRISTAN!" he cried "What in God's name?"

Tristan looked up as Gawain came to his side. Roused by his comrade's shout Arthur broke away and too came over "Tristan why do you not listen to us?" but Arthur could not hold his resolve against his weary friend and his voice faltered.

"Come then Tristan, will you go back now."

"Nay, Arthur he has proved he can walk, let him come with me and I'll take care of him."

Tristan scowled, he did not like being referred to as he but remained silent so as not to endanger his chance of freedom. "Gawain, look at him"

Always Arthur was the voice of reason. Tristan sidestepped out of view.

"He'll kill himself, yesterday he could hardly breath,"

"I know, I know" Gawain was starting to see Arthur's point, but was willing to try and talk his way out of having to spend the evening listening to the hunter curse.

"I won't let him out of my sight Arthur, on God's name I swear" Arthur glanced behind him at Tristan before nodding and turning aside as Gawain firmly led Tristan elsewhere. "Tristan please be careful, we've all been worried sick about you"

"When will you go home Gawain?"

"Home?" he questioned "not until you can accompany us Tristan" he guided him onto a bench and passed him some food "

"Watch yourself Tristan".

Tristan sat alone at the back of the room watching the other knight's laugh. A goblet sat at his side it held only water, but he rarely drank anyway. His unruly hair fell in his eyes as he had not had the strength of coordination to braid it some time, it had not been undone it a long time and was frizzing annoyingly into his vision, something Tristan was struggling to retain as it was, he was still fiercely independent and would not suffer anyone else do it for him, as he had made quite clear when Galahad offered. Cursing softly he flipped it out of his eyes and continued to massacre the piece meat he was holding. He was very pleased with himself for obtaining this food, for he had been fed nothing but broth for the previous few days and that did no suit him. It was a treat to be able to sit here in the tavern without anyone watching him, though suspected Gawain was not drinking, so as to save him the job of dragging him back to his room something Tristan had done on many occasions.

Presently Galahad broke away from his sparring mach and sat down next to Tristan "Tristan" he asked "How many Saxons did you kill with that" Tristan paused for a second before answering

"A lot"

" Have you cleaned it since then?" he asked apprehensively, staring at Tristan's knife

"Well there isn't blood on it is there," he answered slicing off another piece and transferring to his mouth.

"Tristan can't you find anything cleaner to eat off"

Tristan brandished his knife at Galahad, who almost laughed at the sight of Tristan threatening him over the top of his food, but though better of it. Despite the fact that there was a perfectly good piece of meat resting on it, Tristan's knife would probably find it's way very quickly to his arm, Tristan glared at the young knight sending him back to his fight. Glancing over said knife, he found that Gawain had been distracted and deicide it was a good time to try and escape.

Gawain saw Tristan rise and limp off, he quickly made to follow him.

Tristan took a few uncertain steps: the ground was becoming increasingly blurred and his head was throbbing. Determined to make it back to his room he kept walking, his vision worsened and suddenly he fell, ending up lying in the dirt. He cursed in his own language but didn't move. He could fell blood trickling down he arm.

Gawain saw him fall "TRISTAN" he ran to him and knelt beside his friend Tristan groaned, true falling in his already bruised and battered chest was not enjoyable, but he was ashamed, ashamed to lift his head from the ground to show his face, he grimaced and muttered a few more curses "Tristan can you hear me?" Gawain's troubled voice reached his ears. He sighed, dreading to look up.

If one more person asks if I can hear them… Tristan thought menacingly. It was shame enough to trip like that without all this fuss. Galahad swiftly came to his side and knelt beside Gawain "Tristan…" he began worriedly.

At this moment Arthur came around the corner intending to say his farewells. Upon finding two of his former knights knelt beside a motionless Tristan he ran forwards, full of concern "What happened?" he asked roughly

"He fell, he hadn't been drinking, and he's still injured" Gawain finished softly

"I can see that" Arthur gently flipped Tristan over "Tristan can you move?" Tristan groaned again, not really wanting to. But he also knew that if he did not get up soon Arthur and Gawain would pull or pick him up off the ground and he had no wish to feel anymore helpless then he already was. Still muttering curses in two languages, He pulled himself to his feet and cast Arthur a look as if daring him to laugh, before limping into the darkness. A few patrons at the bar were laughing openly. Gawain turned fire in his eyes and a knife in his hands. He could not bear to think of Tristan's shame to have these peasants laughing at his fall, said peasants fell silent and Gawain turned again and jogged off to find Tristan before he killed himself. Arthur watched him go sadly.

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