Ok, its been a while, I know. But seriously, I've beenso busy. I had two huge exams today, a group presentation in which I had to teach thelesson for the dayand read a paper on The American Dream that I wrote at a conference.I basically fudged my way through the whole day unprepared for everything yet still turning out ok. Anyways, the larp went great, it tired me out though. I survived the weekend on a can of vanilla funfetti cake icing andcranberry-wildberry juice (yummy)So, now you know why its been a while. This chapter might not be the greatest, but I didnt want to keep you guys waiting too long. It is geting late now, and I have been running non stop since 8:30 this morning (I hate wed. with a passion) so I'm going to go to bed now. Wish me luck with my Three papers due, they're a killer! I hope you enjoy the chapter, I am trying to slowly wind the story down, probably only one or two more chapters left now. Sorry if this one sucks! Please dont hate me!

I don't own King Arthur. I did, but I ate it over the weekend when I was playing a barbarian named Mudslide. (You guys should try larping, its awesome) By the way, if you're curious as to what exactly went on at the alrp, its a really funny story...really, really funny!

Time May Change

I can hear gentle snoring next to me and I realize with a start we had both fallen back asleep. I am curious as to the time but more so as to what people are going to think when we leave the room in the middle of the day like this. Only God knows what they're going to be thinking. I look at Tristan with a hint of a smile. No, don't do this, get a hold on yourself, don't lose it now. I fidget under the blanket' I have to get out of this room.

I trip myself out of bed rather unceremoniously, partially falling on Tristan in the process. He wakes with a sort and jumps up, the blankets falling away from his body revealing all. I swallow. I can't believe that…that we…and that thing……oh but it was nice. Tristan looks at me sheepishly. He was staring, but its ok, I was too. He looks tired. I wouldn't doubt it, we wore each other out really good. I sit back down on the bed, pulling the blanket across my lap. I don't want him staring at me anymore, not like this.

He is a bit uncomfortable, I can tell, as he grabs his things and turns around to get dressed. I take advantage of the moment and throw my old clothes on. Five minutes later we find ourselves staring at the door, wondering what we will find beyond.

Neither of us are willing to act like a scared dog, I know I won't. I look up defiantly and make my way to the door. Tristan, likewise, reached for the handle, bumping my hand in the process. I jump back and glare. I am not walking out of here at the same time as him, not after what we did. People will think things, the wrong things. What wrong things, we did do what they are thinking. I let out an aggravated sigh; I may as well get out of this room and down to the stables where I can get some peace. I exchange looks from Tristan, I can tell he is thinking the same. I only hope Lancelot lends me his horse again.

I walk in the stables shadowing Tristan as he enters before me. There is no one to be found and that suits me just fine. Tristan gets his mare out and begins preparing her for a ride. As much as I would love to get on a horse and away from everyone, I feel I probably shouldn't just take someone's horse, especially after all the trouble I caused the night before. Gods, was that last night. The head ache I didn't have before is suddenly tormenting me as memories of the tavern begin to haunt me. if I'm not careful, I'm going to land myself in some deep crap. Speaking of which…

I look around; the stalls need to be cleaned still. I always enjoyed being around horses, even if it was manure duty. I may as well redeem myself, plus why should the horses suffer and stand in their morning filth?

I nod to Tristan as he gently lays the saddle on his mare's smooth back and tightens the cinch around to secure it. He raises an eyebrow as I go on a short conquest to find a pitchfork. I near the hay to see if someone carelessly left it sticking up for someone to stumble over, but fortunately for whoever that clumsy person might be, it wasn't there. I then go to the back of the stable, hoping to find it there, but to no avail. I turn to ask Tristan where the blasted pitchfork is but there he stands behind me, smirking.

"Looking for this?" He holds up a pitchfork. As I grab for it, I notice he has a shovel in his other hand. I throw it off as nothing and walk to nearest stall; Lancelot's horse.

I begin scooping the contents of the stall up and shaking the loose clean straw out when I realize that I don't have a wheelbarrow or bucket to place it in, nor do I know where to dump it at either. Again I turn to ask Tristan, and again I am surprised.

He is leaning against the opposite stall, a large bucket at his feet. He lowers head against his chest and stares at me.

"For someone so experienced around horses you sure have a lot of trouble cleaning a stall."

"Oh as if I would know where everything if kept." He shrugs and drags the bucket over before joining me inside the stall.

"What are you doing, aren't you going to ride?" I ask casually, wishing to be alone to think.

"I could, but if I help you it will get done quicker, and this is more important, is it not?" I choose not answer him and continue to clean out the stall, occasionally petting the coal black stallion as I did. The silence is welcoming to me, but I feel uneasy working next to Tristan. Even when his eyes are elsewhere, I can feel his gaze, ever boring into me, staring right through me and piercing my heart. The part that worries me; I don't have a heart, just a block of ice that freezes my soul.

I set myself into a pattern as I work; rake, scoop, shake, dump, rake, scoop, shake, dump. The stalls are nearly done when u stop for a moment to catch my breath.

"I take it back, you know what you're doing." Tristan leans his shovel against the outside of the stall and joins me on a bale of hay. I look down at the close proximity of our bodies and scoot away.

"Do you not like me now? Or did you never? Was last night all just a game to you?" he grinds his foot on the ground in slow small semi circles as he tries to act like he doesn't care.

I stand and lean against a stall down the aisle a ways. "No Tristan, last night was not a game. Life is a game, one we all must play, and we all must lose. There is no winner in life, only failure and death."

"You talk much of life being worthless. Must we all hate it so?" He picks at a piece of hay and twines it between his fingers, wrapping it around his middle finger, then his ring finger. "Its not just a game, a game is played many times, this we must live, we only get one chance to get it right." The hay breaks and falls to the ground and he kicks it out of the way.

"Aye, only one chance, and we throw it all away." I sit on the ground and stare ahead. Life; you're supposed to embrace it, enjoy what you have and do what you can with it. But I'd rather ignore it and get it over with. This is what I was handed and I won't 'try to make the best of it'. Shit can't be made good. I learned that long ago, I learned that when my mother died, and again when my father left me alone with that freak woman on my birthday when he hung himself in our bathroom. I walk in to take a shower and I find him. Funny thing is, I can remember being more upset over not being able to bathe for another six hours than finding him dead. He never cared about, why should I have cared about him? Yes, we all throw life away, and some of us, spit on it.

It seemed that with time, it was just easier to ignore everything in life than to deal with it. Somehow I ended up like this. This is the path I chose, it took a few turns to get here, yet here I am. No going back, only forward, and I'm stuck in the fifth century to figure it out. If I ever get back to my real time, I'm going to hurl.

I grab my pitchfork and make my way to the next stall. No use crying over spilled milk, right? I separate the clean from the dirty hay and start mucking it out, this time alone. But I can feel his eyes on me, always watching me. "What do you want?"

"I'm waiting for you to finish so I can put her away." He gestures to the horse still standing cross-tied in the aisle. I pick up one last fork full, dump it in the bucket and leave the stall wordlessly. As he puts his mare in, I take the bucket to be dumped for the fifth time. I ignore all stares as I drag it behind me. If people are going to start thinking of me as one worthy only for stall duty, fine. At least someone is doing it.

I walk back in the stables to the last stall but Tristan corners me. "Why? Why do you not care?"

"Let me ask you this, do you? Do you care about life? Or is death just another step in the adventure?"

"Yes, it is another step, one we all take. When or how doesn't matter too much, I know it won't be at home though. So what does it matter?" He pauses before turning the tables on me. "What about you, will you go home?"

I shake my head and smile in a sad yet evil sort of way. "Even if I could return, it was never home to me, only where all my nightmares begin." I duck under his arm and proceed to clean out the last stall. Another ten minutes and I am once again dumping the bucket, this time its nearly empty and I drag it behind me much quicker. As I near the manure pit however I encounter Lancelot, and I'm not in the mood.

"Krista, where were you all night…and morning? I know you share a room with Tristan, but I thought you weren't like that?"

Is that alcohol I smell on his breath? Doesn't Arthur take command of his men ever? They're always running around pestering me, don't they have better things to do than get drunk and think about sex? "None of your business, now if you'll excuse me, I have to dump this."

"Allow me." I can't believe he is still trying to charm me. I thought I had gotten him to give t up but I guess what happened with me and Tristan was an insult to his record. Well, rather than tarnish his reputation with the women, I better hold up my end.

"Sure you can help me, here just take this side of the bucket, and I'll hold the other." He picks up one end and as I have him off guard I grab the bottom and tilt up and 'accidentally' spill the contents on him. "Oh dear, isn't that just disgusting, well, I do thank you for helping me dump this. Bye."

I exit the scene before I bust out laughing. I know I shouldn't have, but how could I have resisted. I know I'll be in trouble later, but I'll deal with that then. I quick duck around a corner as I see Arthur coming and a hand is clasped around my mouth. I take a moment to glare ahead, annoyed. Rough, calloused hands, why is he still here? I stomp on his toes then bring my elbow up sharp and fast, catching him in the ribs, leaving him slightly bent over holding his side.

"After this morning I thought you'd be kinder to me."

"We all get used to disappointment eventually." I walk away, heading to the edge of the woods were I plan to sit and reflect life.

As I sit I notice, much to my annoyance, that Tristan is still behind me, now seating himself next to me.

"Do you remember being young, smiling because you could, not for any real reason, just cause life was good?"

I place my head on my knees and close my eyes, thinking back to when I was little. "No, I don't. I remember tears. Tears and death and then darkness. When I was very little, about five, maybe when I just turned six, there may have been smiles, but then my mother died…and it all went downhill from there. My father always had a problem with drinking, but after that, well, problem doesn't quite fill the job description. It was a life style; being drunk. And I was always in the way. No, I don't remember happiness."

"And this morning, what did you feel? Did you feel happiness, did you feel pain?" He knows it wasn't love.

"No, I just felt, I could feel. For once I wasn't numb to what we call life, I was human. I knew what things were, what life was. Happiness wasn't experienced per say, but it was understood. Don't get me wrong, it certainly felt good, but it wasn't like that. It was more like becoming whole, for once I wasn't hollow."

"A sort of feeling of completeness, I know what you mean." He stares ahead. "Does this mean we're…I mean, do we have to…?"

"No, we don't have to do anything." I look at him and smile. it would be ok, everything would be ok. Tomorrow the sun would still rise, tonight it would set, and I'd be one more day closer to getting my life over and done with. I stand and wait for Tristan as I make my way towards the tavern for an early supper. People are going to talk, but I'll let them. I know what happened, Tristan knows what happened, that's all who needs to know. My mouth twitches as I think about Tristan and our 'activities' of the morning. Tristan was alright, he was an ok guy. He knew what I meant what I said about life. To some extent, he was living it just like me, one day at time, wondering when it would all end. Perhaps it wouldn't be today or tomorrow, but time didn't matter to me. It was the 'why' that I cared about. Why do we all die, and why did I have to live the way I've lived my life? and why was it only now that I've ever really cared?

Ok, this is the end of my, quick-write-something-before-they-forget-who-you-are chapter. I hope someone out there liked it. Worry not though, this story is going somewhere...I just have to figure out where (Just kidding, I just need to straighten out a few bumps yet, thats all) Bye for now, sleepy time, and horse back riding (I desperately hope) tomorrow. For anyone educated in the field of horses, I am very happy, I taught my paint horse to side pass over the weekend and schooled my new horse over two foot jumps, which is new for him! Progression at last, yea, go me! (does happy dance) Sorry, got a little distracted there, goodnight everyone, enjoy your nights rest, I know I will! By the way, don't forget to review, they make me happy and help me to write better. So please review.