A/N: BTW, thank you everyone for your reviews. I've responded to all, I think, except: Josje, thanks for your review and discovering as well! Alex, I hope your week got better. And thank you to History2 for helping me with the direction of the story!

That Explains It

No wonder she was mad at him. Did Jaelynn really think he was purposely trying to hurt her?

Tristan wasn't keen on coming on this trip either, but if he'd even suspected it would have bothered her this much, he would have tied Galahad to the saddle in his place. Her words echoed in his mind.

"I need my space too, Tristan. Maybe it's cowardly to run away from problems, but I learned it from you."

He supposed he deserved that. Yes, he did run away. It was his defense when people pestered him or speculated what a cold-hearted assassin he was. And it was cowardly—so unlike what he was on the battlefield. He didn't understand how he was so different on such a fundamental element—of courage.

"Do I ever come after you when you need your time to mope?"

Well, he hadn't known that was what she was doing, so he didn't fault himself for that one.

And then there was her dismissal. She treated him like a servant, ordering him to stay out of the way. She wanted to be left alone, without him interfering. Do I distract her? Am I just a painful reminder?

He knew the answer to both questions.

Jaelynn hadn't turned back to look at him once since the end of her words. She rode quickly ahead of him, leaving Tristan to follow or not. Of course, he followed, but he let himself give her space now. Or maybe you're giving yourself space.

Coward.

They reached the village just hours later. An older woman came out to greet Jaelynn. Tristan stayed seated in his saddle, watching as Jaelynn dismounted and met the woman. She was the village's healer. Her eyes flickered to Tristan.

"You both may stay with me," she said politely, although her eyes didn't speak of trusting the scout. Tristan wasn't even trying to intimidate.

"No, I hate to inconvenience you," Jaelynn said, her voice all sweetness. She had a cold gleam to her eyes though. "If you like, my guard may stay in the stables. He's quite at home there."

He glared at her, but she didn't see it. The healer glanced between them.

"It's no trouble," she said. "Did you bring anything new from Hilden?" the healer asked eagerly. Jaelynn smiled, and turned to Tristan. She waved at him, and it reminded Tristan of how Germanius used to wave him off.

"My guard has the supplies."

Again, Tristan glared at her, and she saw it and answered with a smirkful victory. Tristan handed her a bag, which the healer intercepted and took inside her home.

"Your guard has a name," Tristan muttered. Jaelynn shrugged and took some supplies into the healer's home.

-0-0-

The next morning, Jaelynn was ready and about her duties before Tristan. That in itself bothered him, but then she pushed it by never acknowledging he was there.

She emerged from the home of a sick villager, and walked to the healer's home. Tristan leaned against the healer's house, just watching her go back and forth. This was the third time for her to do this, and just like those times, her eyes didn't even flicker in his direction.

It was ticking him off.

He heard her move within the healer's home, and then her footsteps came back towards him. She walked right by him.

"Jaelynn, stop," he said, grabbing her by the arm. Jaelynn's eyes flashed angrily, and Tristan released her. He was struck by the intensity within her. She really hated him now.

"What?" she asked icily.

Good question. Maybe he shouldn't have . . . No, this has to end. Tristan turned and went inside the house. He heard Jaelynn step just inside as he moved around and found what he was looking for. His old sword. It was wrapped in cloth. He laid it out on the floor. Slowly, he unwrapped the long bulk, until his old sword appeared in its scabbard.

Jaelynn came closer, standing over him and the sword. Glancing up at her, he saw the frown on her face. Tristan grasped the sword and handed it to her by the hilt.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A sword." He waited for her to get a firm grip on it, and ignored the glare she gave him. "In case you need it."

"This is your sword," she said, moving to give it back. Tristan shook his head.

"Not anymore." He gathered the cloth he'd wrapped the weapon in, trying to resist the urge to study her. Somehow he felt it'd just make her more upset. The cloth in his hands, Tristan stood and saw Jaelynn staring bewilderedly at the blade.

She slid the blade from the scabbard, her eyes never straying from the clean, strong metal. There was delight and awe in her eyes, and it warmed Tristan. He wasn't used to the feeling. It disappeared as Jaelynn quickly sheathed the blade and nodded at him.

"Thank you."

-0-0-

He gave her his sword. His sword.

They'd been riding for another day now, having finished quickly at the first village. Jaelynn still kept her communication with the scout to a minimum. She knew it drew tense attention from the healer of the village, but the sweet woman was wise enough not to intrude.

She couldn't really keep this up, she knew. Jaelynn was just hurt. She would recover, but for now, Tristan was still a constant reminder of rejection. Her heart constricted painfully whenever she saw him. And despite her harsh words to him, he was doing exactly what she told him not to.

Interfering.

To his credit, he wasn't trying to be in the way or distract her. But his mere presence . . . it was as she feared. She hung on every word, until she discovered that's what she was doing and then cast aside any thought of Tristan's words or actions.

Of course, the sword as a gift did not help. Her mind told her it was a weapon, so she was safer (even though her skills using such a blade were insufficient). Her heart told her it was the ultimate gift, an expression of—dare she hope—love. From another man, it might be a beautiful flower or a jewel. From Tristan, the sword was worth a million jewels.

Stop dreaming.

It is a weapon—a spare one at that, since he uses a new sword now.

The steady canter of her horse shifted the blade in its scabbard against her back. Despite her confusion, she wasn't about to let the sword lie around useless. Tristan had seemed pleased, or maybe not. His face remained blank, but he did help her tie it securely so it would not move much as she rode.

He didn't push for anymore conversation. Jaelynn was glad. She didn't know what to say anymore. It saddened her. She felt like she lost all ease and comfort with the scout. Partially all your doing. Maybe. But for now, resuming their friendship would just lengthen the time of her pain.

The journey to the next village would take at least four days. They stopped within the woods for the first night. Jaelynn left any worries to Tristan, and distanced herself from him. She was out of his sight when she drew the sword from its scabbard.

Her arm stretched awkwardly just to draw out the blade. It was narrow and long. She'd never noticed just how thin the blade was. She thumbed the edge, and gasped at how sharp it was. The slight curve at the end of the blade was beautiful, though she knew it would serve to be more deadly.

She bounced the sword in her hand, testing the weight. It was heavier than any stick she'd practiced with against Gawain. She had no idea how it compared to other swords.

Her eyes caught the beauty of the hilt. It was simple, wrapped in leather or some such material. A gold or brass circle sat at the base of the blade, and she noted how clean it looked. Simple.

But beautiful to her.

Unbidden, her heart radiated a warmth. She hated it and loved it at the same time. It was the same with the blade.

She stood up straight and held the blade in front of her face with the tip skyward. Her mind flashed with images of Tristan wielding this very sword. How fluid his movements were. She wondered if she would ever be able to fight so gracefully. With just a simple step forward, a spin and duck beneath an enemy's sword, and then an almost effortless thrust—resulting in death.

No, maybe she didn't ever want to fight like that. Her training was important to her, but it was defensive. She was not a warrior; she was a healer, perhaps the exact opposite profession of Tristan and the other knights. She had injured, maybe killed a man before—she thought specifically of the man in the sea cave, one of the marauders—but it was to defend herself. What Tristan and the others did was also defensive, in some ways, but it looked for trouble.

Especially Tristan. She smiled. What a knack the man had for finding the worst sort of mischief.

She didn't fault him for his killing though. He excelled at it. Why shouldn't he? It's all he knew for a good 15 years or more. But she knew Tristan enough to know that there was more to him. That he didn't relish killing like everyone thought he did.

And you're thinking about him again.

Frustrated with her lapse, she lowered the sword with a sigh.

"Do you want to train?" she heard behind her.

Jaelynn didn't turn to face him. She eyed the sword and again bounced it in her hand.

"It's heavy," she said. It wasn't really an answer, but it was the shortest phrase beyond a 'yes' or 'no' that came to mind.

Tristan's footsteps brought him in front of her. He nodded at the sword.

"It takes time," he said. "Your arms will adjust to the weight. You just have to practice."

And then he raised one eyebrow, as if he were repeating his previous question.

Jaelynn looked away from him and favored the sword with a glance. Yes, she wanted to train with the sword. She just wasn't crazy about training with him.

"Maybe later," she said.

She left him, sheathing the sword a little awkwardly back in its scabbard as she walked.

-0-0-

Ugh.

Three days on horseback did little for her comfort. It wasn't just a matter or riding anymore. In some ways, her body was used to the aches. But the smell—well, that was another matter.

Jaelynn longed for a bath, or a bed. Both, preferably. Tristan didn't show that he was bothered at all. He does this all the time. He was a scout after all.

It was after noon, and the sun was waning already. Jaelynn thought they would continue for another two hours at least, but suddenly Tristan changed directions.

"This way," he said, and he gave his horse an encouraging kick. Jaelynn followed him into the thick trees, wondering why there was such drastic change in course. Maybe something is wrong.

Does he sense some danger?

The hawk didn't, because she glided happily above them and the trees. Jaelynn frowned. She would have to wait and see. She did not want to ask him anything.

It took a good detour from their original path, but Jaelynn heard something in the distance. Tristan turned in his saddle, showing some semblance of a smile to her. Jaelynn still frowned. It was a slight sound from here, muffled but . . . familiar.

As they got closer, Jaelynn understood where they were. Well, not where, really, but what they were near.

"A waterfall," she said aloud without meaning to. A rushing curtain of water fell over a steep green cliff, and dove into the pool of crisp water at the cliff's base. Jaelynn saw the mist the waterfall gave off. It was still cold outside, and she could only imagine how much colder the water was, but she could smell how dirty she was. Tempting . . .

Tristan dismounted, tying his horse to a tree. He quickly gathered some wood and set up a fire. Jaelynn wondered why he started one so soon. Normally he waited . . .

Normally, they didn't stop this early.

"Are we staying the night here?" she asked. Tristan nodded.

Jaelynn stared at the water, watching it cascade into the little pond and drain down a stream over some rocks further away from her. Moss covered the rocks above the water, but beneath, she saw the rocks themselves were smooth. She knelt by the water, and dipped her hand in to touch the smooth surface.

A shudder ran through her body. The water was very cold, maybe too cold to even consider bathing in. If only she had a large pot, she might consider warming the water over the fire and bathing elsewhere.

She turned to the fire Tristan started. Jaelynn frowned. He wasn't there.

Turning to survey the area, she saw Tristan untying his armor. His sword was already on the ground, and he dropped his armor on top of it. He stripped his shirts off as well, and even his boots. Jaelynn stood there, blinking to make sure she was really seeing this.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Tristan glanced through the head of his shirt as he took it off. He nodded at the water.

"Swimming." With that, he stepped into the water. Jaelynn gasped, and she saw him tense as well, but then he waded in further and dove beneath the surface.

He'll freeze!

Maybe not, but she knew the cold was not wise for anyone.

She saw him swim beneath the water just a few strokes, and then he burst through the surface. He gasped, and she saw how quickly his chest heaved. But the smile on his face told her he was fine.

"You're crazy," she said loudly. Tristan grinned.

"You should try it."

Being crazy or the water?

"It's not too bad," he said. She saw the goosebumps over his flesh from where she stood. His skin had a muted blue pallor to it.

"You're turning blue," she said. He shrugged.

"Beats the smell," he said, a twinkle in his eyes. With that, he dove beneath the water again. Jaelynn watched, enthralled, tempted, and horrified as he braved and swam in the water.

She watched until he surfaced again, and then reason overtook her. Watching him wasn't helping. She could see his chest, basically a half-naked man whom she harbored love for, against her will. As much as she hated the smell of their journey and her sweat, she couldn't join him in the water. It was an invitation to disaster, for her.

She wouldn't risk it. It was improper in many ways, and although she and Tristan should be above that, she wasn't. It was necessary, for her protection.

Tristan emerged from the water ten minutes later. He quickly redressed and got by the fire.

"You should go," he said, nodding at the water.

Jaelynn raised an eyebrow. "Is that a hint?"

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

Jaelynn, though, did want that bath. With him out of the water, she felt less apprehension. Except what do you do about your clothes? Scowling, she took off her boots and her outer clothing. She left a thin shirt and her traveling pants on. It would be easier without them, but Tristan was behind her.

She walked over the rocks bare-foot, tracing the side of the water pool. Her eyes kept going to the waterfall. It thundered but the beauty lessened the threat, and Jaelynn just basked in its power.

She glanced at the sky. It was still light out, and that was good for when she would come out of the water. She would need the warmth.

Jaelynn cast aside that thought and dove into the water, head first.

Her body froze beneath the water. Literally, she could not move for a full five seconds. But as her body moved forward from her dive and she surfaced a few feet away, the air revived her.

She couldn't help but gasp as Tristan had, the cold setting in. But it was invigorating. Kicking to keep herself afloat, she grinned and breathed deeply to get a hold over the cold. She glanced around her. The water was deeper than she thought, but she was in the middle of the pond now. She wondered if the thundering veil of water made the pond so deep.

She swam towards the waterfall. The water pushed beneath the surface where it hit, and she could feel the current. She kicked against it, moving her body closer.

Jaelynn grinned, and dove beneath the surface. Under the water, she felt the pressure from the waterfall, but she used her arms to pull herself further beneath the falls. She opened her eyes, and saw a blue mask of bubbles. She smiled.

She quickly let herself come up for air, and then fell beneath the water again to go through the bubbles.

The water fascinated her. Beneath the falls were rocks and plants, and she even saw little fish. They seemed to congregate by the cliff wall, behind the falls. Jaelynn swam closer. Again, the pulsing pressure of the falls pushed into the water and over her. It felt good, actually, but she wanted to see behind the falls and near the cliff wall. She swam forward, beneath the surface of the water.

Suddenly something caught her foot. Jaelynn shrieked, losing her air as well. She kicked out, struggling against what held her. She turned and saw it was Tristan. What!

He pulled himself closer, and grabbed her about the waist. Jaelynn struggled against him instinctively. He swam for the surface, taking her with him.

Jaelynn gasped as they made it above water. She coughed and squirmed, but Tristan held her fast.

"It's all right," he said. He was practically shouting; they were behind the waterfall, and it roared by them.

"Why did you do that!" Jaelynn shouted back. She pried at his hands around her waist, and succeeded to at least turn and face him. He looked baffled. His hair was wet and covered his face. He let out a puff of air as he kicked to stay afloat, and then flicked his head back and forth so he could see past his hair.

"You were drowning," he said.

Jaelynn let out an exasperated sigh. "No, I was exploring. I started drowning when you grabbed me!"

"I thought—" He stopped. "You weren't in trouble?"

Jaelynn shook her head. She kicked with extra effort. For some reason, she was feeling the cold now, and it made it harder to stay above water. She weaved her arms in the water to help buoy her weight.

Tristan noticed. He took her by the wrist and swam the short distance to the cliff walls that were hidden by the waterfall. Jaelynn almost protested, but she was tiring.

He grabbed at a rock in the wall and pulled himself towards it. It gave him some leverage and some rest. He pulled her towards him.

"Grab on," he said. Jaelynn didn't argue, but tried not to show her tiredness. She grabbed at the rocks. They were slick; she wasn't able to find much of a grip. She kicked a little harder to get herself closer and tried again.

Tristan let go of his hold, and came close to her. She tensed as he wrapped his arm around her waist, and swam backwards to his spot at the wall. He gripped it again, and pulled him and Jaelynn up enough so they did not have to tread water so hard.

His arm stayed about her waist. Her back was pressed against his chest, and she felt his wet hair dripping onto her shoulders. They were slightly exposed; the water loosened her shirt, and it slipped just off her shoulders and clung elsewhere to her frame. Her chest heaved a bit. She felt Tristan's moving too. She wondered if he was aware of how he was holding her. Was it just the cold that made him struggle to control his breath?

It's the cold for you, and the exertion. Probably the same for him too, she decided.

"Sorry," she heard him say in her ear. His breath was warm in contrast to everything around them. She shuddered slightly. Tristan tightened his hold around her. "I thought you needed help."

Stunned, for many reasons, she just nodded.

"Are you cold?" he asked next. He was shaking. It was slight, but she definitely felt cold tremors vibrate through him. She didn't feel much better.

"Yes," she admitted, her teeth chattering.

"Let's go back."

He let her go, and Jaelynn turned to face him. She misjudged how close they were, because she found herself near his face. Her eyes found his, and she almost gasped. She hadn't meant for this to happen, much less intensify this awkward situation.

But he stared steadily back at her, even though both of them were freezing now and treading the cold water. The movement of his arms in the water brought him closer to her. Did he mean to do that?

His eyes didn't leave hers. Those light brown eyes . . . He was leaning in.

Suddenly he moved past her, and dove beneath the water.

Did she imagine the leaning-in thing? It must be the cold, she thought. Just as well. She needed to get out of the water quickly, before her rationale and resolve disintegrated in the cold water.

It was time to eat something and get ready for the night, wherein she would dream a dreamless sleep, with no Tristan and no feelings for him.

A realm of safety from rejection.

-0-0-

He hardly slept. Tristan stayed most of the night sitting up and watching her.

His mind replayed how he felt when he saw her barely gasp for air by the waterfall. The horror he felt—he thought she was drowning.

He'd torn off his boots and shirt and dove into the water, frantically searching for her by the waterfall.

And then, behind the waterfall . . . she was there, in his arms. No one but them, hidden from the world. Her trembling body against his, and those eyes—those innocent but warm brown eyes, staring at him.

No, his mind had told him. It's not the time. She still hated him, and he didn't want her to be confused about his actions. Especially if you don't know what you're doing. And that left him sitting by the fire in the middle of the night, watching her sleeping form.

Are you really thinking of this? Of her?

She was all that really mattered. Even back at the fort at the Wall, the knights and Arthur, Guinevere, Vanora, maybe even Hilden—they wouldn't fault him for this, would they?

For caring for her?

She shifted in her sleep, turning towards the fire. The glow radiated off her skin.

Behind the waterfall, he knew what discovery he'd made. She was a woman, not the child he kept telling himself she was. As he held her, the hammering of his heart and his shallow breaths pointed to how he felt about her. As she turned to face him, the sight of her made him see—she was the most beautiful thing. No waterfall or flower or any other woman could compare.

What was he to do about it now?

Tristan sighed softly, and sat back to wait for morning to come.