My classes were canceled today because we had a storm and everything is covered with thick ice. Yay for me, because I was able to write two more chapters. I think I'm trying to make up for the lost time, and for leaving some of you really hanging.

Enjoy!

Chapter 38

The Longest Night

Night set in as six of the great Sarmatian Knights sat outside the healing rooms, eagerly awaiting some bit of news of the premature pregnancy that had begun an hour before. Upon hearing that Vanora had bled out and further weakened herself in searching for Elaine, Bors had raced out of the Tavern, flipping an entire table in his hasty retreat. Now, Kay, Dagonet, Gawain, Galahad and Tristan, who had carried the poor woman the entire way to the rooms, sat in great silence with the obviously worried man.

Galahad was the first to speak, trying desperately in his youthful way to ease the tension that sat about them.

"Arthur should be here soon enough. Lancelot went to get him not too long ago, and...yeah...he'll be here...as soon as he can."

Gawain noticed his friend's apprehensive attempt to calm Bors. "Yes, Arthur will come soon. He'd want to be here, for...all of this."

Soon, even Gawain's words of comfort faded away just as Galahad's had. An uncomfortable silence set in once more, until Bors began to chuckle sarcastically. The men looked towards the man and saw him give a deadly glare at Gawain and Galahad, angry tears on the edges of his eyes.

"All of this, huh?" Bors said, his words dripping with hostility. "All of this!"

Suddenly the eldest of the men stood with great force, charging forward toward the heavy wooden door that separated him from his ailing lover. Bors let out a monstrous roar, balling his mighty fists and pounding on the damned door with so much fury that the it began to shake on its hinges.

"ALL OF THIS? ALL OF THIS? ALL OF THIS?"

Dagonet flew from his place where he leant up against the opposing wall, grasping at Bors elbows to bring the enraged man back away from the door to the healing rooms. Bors swatted his friend's hands away, turning about to face his fellow knights once more.

"All this means is I'm going to loose Van!"

"Bors, hold your tongue," Kay said, standing up quickly at Dagonet's side.

"Damn you!"

Bors turned around again, raising his fist again to make yet another assault on the barrier that kept news about his lover hidden behind it, but as he lowered them down once more, he was surprised when something held them back. Bors shot to his side, seeing that Tristan was standing there, his strong hands holding back Bors firmly, his demeanor deathly calm.

"She knows what she's doing," he said bluntly, but with a serious tone that made all sound and movement cease.

Bors became immediately silent, but glared at the scout and yanked his arms from his grasp. Fervently pacing back and forth, like a caged bear, Bors resumed his silent fuming and the men all sat back down in their usual seats. Tristan exhaled, his withdrawn expression resting firmly upon his countenance, as he went back to leaning to the left of the door. He resumed popping and gnawing at his knuckles, his mind alert despite his thoughts drifting back to where they had resided moments before. The scout began to replay the events that had occurred less than an hour before, noting mentally the words Vanora had said before she had blacked-out. So, she knew about Elaine and him, and Elaine must have told her such. As the knuckle of his middle finger cracked loudly, Tristan thought of he'd have to have a little talk with Elaine when all this was over.

The loud footfalls of the quickly approaching Arthur and Lancelot from down the hallway alerted the other knights.

"How is she?" Arthur said to Dagonet, keeping his eyes upon the obviously upset Bors.

Just than, the door to the healing rooms squeaked open, and a disheveled Elaine emerged, sweaty and exhausted. The men stood up quickly as she closed the door behind her, Bors at her side when she turned back around. His mouth open with unsaid words, he froze when he saw the bundle of swaddling she held closely to her, and the soft cooing and breathing of an infant. Elaine gave the man before her a tired smile, pulling the swaddling to reveal a podgy face with tiny sparkling blue eyes.

"Your son, Bors," she said, sliding the babe into the eager arms of its father. Bors looked down into the tiny face, before he clutched him to his stout chest.

Arthur came to Elaine's side, smiling as he pushed a loose strand of her long hair out of her face.

"He has had a rough night, but he's as strong as his father," Elaine said, as Bors gave a tearful smile to the young lady.

"And the mother?"

Elaine's face grew grave, her heart beating fast as she thought of her exhausted and weak friend in the rooms behind her. Desperately searching around the room, her eyes finally rested on the eyes of Tristan, who stood sternly behind Lancelot. Gazing into his deep, mysterious orbs, Tristan seemed to give Elaine a secret look, which gave her the support she needed when he couldn't do so himself. Sighing, she spoke, but did not for a moment tear her eyes away from her source of foundation.

"Vanora lost a lot of blood in the labor and was extremely depleted by the actual birth," she said.

All the men lowered the heads, all except Bors who looked frantically at the healer, tears once again forming in his worried eyes. "But...all the other ones, they were all healthy. She...she gave birth to Number 4 in the fields outside the Wall..."

Elaine looked sadly at Bors, trying to give some form of hope in the grave situation they had found themselves in. "Not all births are healthy. This one came too early. But Vanora is stronger than any woman I've met."

Bors swallowed back tears, nodding towards Elaine who reached forward to take the babe and slipped back into the rooms. The dejected man slipped down on the bench, slumping forward and burying his head in his hands. Arthur stepped forward, placing a firm palm down on his knight's shoulder.

"I can't loose Van."

A bright full moon was high in the late night sky, when Elaine finally emerged once again from the healing rooms, where for nearly nine hours she had labored to bring one soul into the world, and keep another in it. Upon closing the door behind her with a small clack from the latch, the healer was met with the sight of an empty hall, where only one figure sat on a bench, slumped over. A soft, throaty snore drifted from Bors uncomfortable form. Elaine smiled slowly making her way towards her dear friend. The poor man had sat there the entire time, no doubt filled with the greatest fears for the safety of the woman he loved and the child she had just given him.

Placing a small, soothing hand on his hardy back, Elaine gently shook his sleeping form, trying to lull him awake. Bors let out a snot in the midst of a snore, grumbled some unclear words, and looked about him in the attempts of gathering his bearings. Once the realization of where he was and what had happened, Bors's head shot up to look desperately in the face of Elaine. His eyes shone pleadingly in the warm orange glow of the soft torchlight in the hall.

"Van?"

Elaine smiled, "Mother and son are doing just fine now, Bors."

Bors sighed in great relief before standing up, surprising Elaine when he gathered her in a great embrace.

"You've saved my life, do you know that lass?" he whispered against the top of her head.

Elaine giggled and whispered, "Vanora is fine, albeit exhausted. You should be in there with her, so I made up the second bed for you."

She pulled out of the embrace partly, and placed a hand on Bors's cheek. "Get some sleep as well, alright?"

Bors nodded, than bent forward to kiss Elaine on the forehead. She smiled as he pulled away and slipped quietly into the rooms, closing the door gently behind him. Sighing, Elaine slowly began to make her way down the halls towards her chambers. The whole day had been a series of highs and lows, twists and turns, and now that she knew that her friend's life was out of grave danger, Elaine began to reflect upon the good ending to the entire situation. She chuckled to herself when she remembered the sight of the chubby-faced child, which was an almost exact replica of his father. Elaine had almost forgotten the blessed moments during childbirth that came in the midst of the screams and pains. The first sight of the child's eyes, the mother kissing the top of her babe's head, and presenting the proud father with a gift from God. It was one of the reasons she had gone to Isolde in the hopes that she would teach her the ways of the Celtic Healers. So that she could save a life. So that she could bring life.

Thoughts of motherhood drifted into her mind. Oh God, how she prayed to someday feel the blessings of being a mother. To hold the warm babe to her heart, to feel its precious heart beat, and to kiss it's soft skin. As she drifted down the halls, Elaine slipped into a daydream, fantasizing about being a mother herself. She imagined herself sitting in a grassy plain with a dark haired little one, tickling the giggling babe's belly and hugging it to her with such love. She could see the baby crawl away from her to a pair of black boots, and laugh with glee as two slender hands reached under it's arms to lift it up. The baby wrapping it's tiny fingers around a thick braid and pulling gently...

Elaine froze in the middle of the hall, for she realized that she hadn't just been fantasizing about the baby she hoped she would have, but the baby she and Tristan could have. Placing her hand on her lips to help herself from chuckling, Elaine yawned into the hand instead, realizing just how tired she was. So tired, that when she felt what she knew was the hand of the man she loved wrap around her waist to guide her along, she simply sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. As she allowed him to lead her down the chambers hall, Elaine smiled at used she was getting to Tristan's unusual mannerisms when it came to love. He certainly wasn't one for sweet poems, whispers of love and devotion, or any of that other way that Elaine truly found annoying anyways. Tristan was subtle, preferring things unsaid but obviously know through his intense glances and devoted actions. Like snatching her out from darkened corners, kissing her fervently, leaving her little tokens, and teasing her about her silly ways with a soft tone in his words.

A loud chorus of gruff snores broke Elaine away from her thought, and she looked to see they were traveling down the knight's hallway. Tristan huffed, speaking against her head, "Heavy sleepers."

Elaine chuckled, but stopped when she realized that they were standing in front of Tristan's chambers. As he leaned forward to unlatch the door, Elaine pushed all her reservations aside, for she knew that she loved Tristan with all her heart and that he would never do anything to break that heart. He was a man of honor, and while the subject of how far they were ready to take their newfound love for one another had not yet been breached, Elaine knew Tristan wasn't one for rushing her into anything.

As Tristan pushed the door open, Elaine was met with the sight of a dark chamber. She had to wait in the doorway as Tristan slipped into the darkness, disappearing until he lit just a few candles placed about the room, illuminating it with a soft glow. Elaine looked about her as Tristan reached to close the door, and saw a very sparse room in the sense of more conventional chambers. It was composed of two connected rooms, and a washroom with a small basin that served as a tub, with a large bed with posts, a chair by the fireplace, a skin rug, and a table at the far end. But what it lacked in the way of normal rooms, it made up for in the realm of weaponry and trinkets. All of Tristan's daggers, of various sizes and styles, hung upon a stand against the wall, and another held his curved battle sword. His usual battle bow sat up against the same wall, joined by a longbow and a another similar to the first. Spread about the table were arrows and points. Yet, what astonished Elaine the most was the unusual objects that also furnished Tristan. Many items from his scouting missions, polished rocks, shells, and other items joined items that seemed unusual for a Sarmatian knight to own. A gold goblet, a polished and jewlled box also joined his things. Elaine chuckled, remembering Tristan's pension for taking such items quite obviously from various Roman officers and selling them later for weapons and, of course, plenty of apple.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Tristan said, bending down to the fireplace to set it ablaze with a warm fire.

Elaine chuckled and made her way over towards the bed, slumping down upon it's edge. "Just taking it all in, Tristan."

The scout huffed, walking over towards her as he began to remove the heavy overcoat he wore. As if out of habit, Elaine reached out and took over the job so that Tristan could remove the leather cuffs on his wrists instead. Such a intimate movement for others, seemed normal for the two who took no notice of their own actions.

"Like what you see?"

Elaine cocked up one eyebrow and chuckled, "Don't be brash."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

Tristan nodded, and walked back towards the fireplace, satisfied with her answer. She had worked away for hours on end, and he knew as he had watched he walk down the halls in such a dreamy state that she must be near collapsing. Slipping off his coat as he neared the fireplace where he would hand it off to the side to dry off from the hunting he had just returned back from, he heard a soft chuckle.

"What, no kiss?"

Tristan turned back, huffing and smirking towards the woman sitting on the edge of his bed. "Not until you give me some answers."

Elaine rolled her eyes, "And what would those answers pertain to?"

"How about the fact that Vanora somehow knew that we were together, hmm?"

Elaine groaned, annoying Tristan when she seemingly attempted to brush of the question. "Elaine," he said in a serious tone. "We agree. It is too soon, and too many are involved to know just yet."

"I know. But I had already told Vanora of my feelings for you before the night of the Festival, which she ended up guessing all about anyways."

Tristan froze. Turning back towards the table to set down his leather cuffs, he couldn't help but smirk, for she had felt just as strongly for him as he had for her. "We must be careful, that is all."

"Mmm-hmm."

Tristan turned back around to see that Elaine's head was leaning heavily upon the nearest bed post, her eyes closed. Again. the scout could stop the smirk that managed to slip on his face. Swiftly nearing the bed, Tristan took Elaine in his arms, placing her back towards the head of the bed and covering her with his sheets. She nuzzled the pillows as he bent forward to blow out the candles surrounding the bed. He moved to go sit in the chair facing her, but stopped when he felt her warm hand slipped into his pulling back. As he looked back down into her now opened eyes, the moonlight filtered in through his single window, giving her creamy white face a glow. She stared right back into his face, before pulling the sheets from her side to make room on the bed beside her. Tristan froze, his breathing becoming labored as he stared down into her face. His body ached to move forward and slipped into the bed beside Elaine, but he hesitated for a moment, unsure with such foreign territory. Yet, before his mind took control of the situation, his body was already sliding in beside her, pulling the sheets over her body and now his own. Tristan lay in the bed a little stiff, but when Elaine pressed her body against his and laid her head upon his chest, Tristan's arms pulled her closer, creating a protective barrier over her. Before he knew it, he felt her breathing calm as she slept comfortable in his arms. But for a long while, the scout was wide awake, fearing that the woman in his arms would awaken from the pounding of his heart in his chest.