Hey guys! So, my BF is back from England...yea! The world is right again...and because I'm so happy, look, another chapter! And guess what, I think the next one isn't far behind...that is, if you want it...let me know...(hint hint...) So, the snow thing in this chapter, for anyone who might not be priveleged enough to live in an area that nine out of ten times has cold and snowy winters...let me tell you...sometimes we get these snow storms that actually are soggy and wet...just like in the story; great for packing snow, bad for house roofs, and driving...and wlaking too, very slippery. Anyways, we don't get them often because I live in northern Pa and its usually pretty frozen snow, but anyways, we got a good one on Christmas overnight two or three years ago, out of no where, andit was gorgeous, I went riding in it right away, no body was outside at all! But the trees were bowed over like crazy with weight and I had to take detours around trees on our property like every fifteen feet. Anyways, just giving you guys an idea of what its like. Unless you already have to deal with snow...then happy shoveling this winter, glad i'll be at school to miss it! Ok so, I don't own King Arthur...hey...I could get them to do the shoveling...

Time May Change

I waited around the stable area for an hour or so before my nerves got the best of me. I then hunted down Tristan. Luckily it was a short hunt; he was resting in his room. Arthur was sitting near his bed when I entered but he was swift to stand and relinquish the chair for my use. However, before I could sit, he motioned me towards the side of the room, indicating he wanted a word with me. If he even suggests that I did something to Tristan, I swear….

"What happened, more details this time?"

"I didn't do it, if that's what you're thinking." Just getting it out of the way.

"I didn't say you did, I asked what happened." God, people can be so annoying.

"We were riding in the woods when we were attacked by a Woad. It shot at Tristan, but his horse reared in fright and actually saved him. I threw a knife at it and killed, remind me to thank Galahad later for that, and then Tristan's horse fell over, presumably breaking his leg if I guessed right." I stared in his face as I spoke, imaging the wall behind his head, trying to pretend he wasn't there.

Arthur looked down towards the floor solemnly; I could tell that the injury of any of his knights made him unhappy. "You guess the right, his leg is broken just above the ankle. It's a small break though, painful nonetheless. They said it should heal quickly. No attempts at walking for at least a few days though, and only then with support. He also has a slight bump on his head, from the fall I suppose…"

"Is he going to be fine?" I only asked if his leg was broken, not for a friggin surgeon's report.

"He'll be fine." Thud, the door closes and his boots echo down the hall. Finally, he's gone.

As I sat down I realized that Tristan wasn't asleep as I had supposed he was. He hadn't made a sound the whole time but I could tell by his breathing alone that he was awake. I thought they would have given him something to help with the pain, and usually 'something' somehow incorporates falling asleep.

I brush some of the slightly damp hair away from his face and two eyes are revealed to me as his eye lids slowly open.

"Hurt much?"

"Only a little."

"What did they give you, for the pain?" I ask, curious about medieval medicine.

"Nothing, wouldn't take anything from them." Well no wonder it hurts you big idiot. I suppose I would have done the same.

"Oh." I shift uncomfortably in the low wooden chair. "Guess you won't be riding for a few days."

"No. Take her out for me? Lancelot can deal with his own horse for a while I'm sure."

"Why not, the boy's always gotta be riding something." I mutter under my breath. Tristan raises an eyebrow slowly as he gradually unravels what I mean.

"He's not so bad." Oh I hope he's not talking about…. "He's good with the sword and as quick at the mouth as you, if not quicker." Oh, he meant like that….

"You know how it is, I just don't like dealing with people."

"Like Arthur?"

"Like people in general…yes Arthur."

"He's trying to be nice, he's a good man, I think you can see that."

"Perhaps I don't want to." I stood and made my way to the door.

"I grew to respect him as my commander, his cause is not like that of the other Romans, I could see that…but I never expected to think of him as a friend. He is a friend indeed though, you will see that in time."

"You're acting weird, you know that?"

"Maybe it's the pain getting to me, or perhaps I'm acknowledging that I am but human. And if that is the case, I also acknowledge that I need to rest." Looking at his face I saw drawn lines indicating he needed to sleep. The man hardly ever slept as it was, but with the day he had been having he probably needed it even more. Sleep is always the best medicine, I remember my mom used to say that when I was little.

Then she got hurt in that accident and she went to sleep. She was right, sleep healed everything for her; she never woke up. We tucked her in tight in the cold New Hampshire ground and said goodnight forever. My dad had to spend some time in the old iron cell for driving drunk and killing someone, but he got out pretty early. I still remember his face the day of my mom's funeral, it looked tired and worn, old before his time, just like Tristan's did right now. Looking at that face, I shuddered within and remembered that cold day. Never forgive, never forget….I needed to leave.

"I'll…I'll let you sleep then. I suppose I'll finally have my own room tonight?"

He gave a nod as he began drifting off to sleep, the pain finally subsiding as he drifted away slowly. "Krista?" I stop once more as I try making a clean exit. I look impatiently for him to say something. "Take the girl for a ride tomorrow?"

"Sure thing Tristan, no problem."

"She was acting strange yesterday, so strange…..maybe something's wrong….so strange….." Click. I close the door and quietly walk down the hallway. I had to go find Arthur, somebody, I needed to find out where I was sleeping. Then again, there was always the stable. It was only just coming on supper time, but I had lost my appetite. I decided to take a walk then maybe go to the stables and find myself a pile of hay. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone and that would be the perfect spot to avoid just about everyone.

Sleeping in a stable in the Roman-Brittan era was probably ot the best of ideas to do this time of year. I forgot that the weather is constantly changing, and usually just from one foul weather to another. The weather had been cold and rainy, overnight however, t became very cold and snowy. It was a bit drafty in the stable and though I was sheltered from the snow, the wind still got to me. I borrowed up in some clean hay and tried to sleep but sleep just wouldn't come. Finally sleep came, probably around three in the morning. Of course, I had stayed up till after midnight I'm sure, petting all of the horses.

By the time I fell asleep, I had tossed back and forth so much that the hay was strewn about quite a bit and I was even colder than before. I was over tired and grumpy too. A cat tried to climb in the hay with me not long before I had actually fell asleep but I threw it out of my way. Yes, threw. Not something I usually do…ok, never do, I don't want to hurt animals, just people, but I was really grumpy and it was annoying me. But then I felt bad, so I went and chased it down and took it back to the hay with me. I plumped it back up, burrowed in once again, and I was asleep. My dreams weren't too comforting though.

I kept seeing my mom, smiling at me, making me toast with cinnamon and sugar on it, then with raspberry jelly because I wasn't feeling good and that was all I would eat. I saw her laughing as she played dolls with me. Then I saw my dad yelling at her in a drunken rage, saw her trying to act as though nothing were wrong around me even though she was crying. I promised myself I would be like my mom, and act as though nothing were ever wrong. Eventually I became immune to the world, or at least for the most part; it still ate at me on the inside. At least my mom smiled.

But then I saw the flashing lights, the crunching of the car smashing, the glass breaking, my mom screaming, me crying. I can't really remember anything from the accident, I was so young, but the mind easily fills in the gaps….then the funeral….I'll never forget that. That was the day I vowed not to not let my dad ruin my life too. He didn't, he only made it completely miserable. I ruined my life on my own by becoming who I am. And I could see myself, ten, maybe fifteen years down the road, becoming my dad, only this time it was me lying face down on the pavement.

And that was when I woke up, gasping, in a cold sweat despite the gusts of wind blowing through the stables. I looked up and saw the ceiling of the stables, saw the stall next to me, Tristan's mare inside of it. I didn't know what time it was, but I was going riding. Horses were always my escape, now I felt like I needed to escape myself.

I got up, brushed the hay off of myself distractedly and took a glance outside. IT would be getting light soon, very soon. I wanted to leave before there were too many people up. My guess was that there were men up all night stationed as watch, but I could deal with them easily…a crowd of people was different though.

I took the horse out of her stall and crosstied her in the aisle way before fetching a brush and quickly grooming her. I was distracted by my dreams and thoughts still and didn't pay much attention. When I knew there wasn't any crusted mud or dirt in the way of the saddle I fetched her tack and quick threw it on. Then after making one last adjustment to the girth, I led her outside to the slowly brightening sky.

It was still snowing outside. It was tapering off gradually but it was definitely still coming down, and good. It was the really thick, wet heavy kind, the sort that cause roof damage but is absolutely perfect for snowball making and snowmen building. But I was going horseback riding, not playing. So I put one foot in the stirrup, and almost slipped my foot right through the stirrup. The snow had compacted on the bottom of my shoes and had made them slippery. I grumbled to myself and fixed my foot in the stirrup again. As I put my weight in the stirrup to mount up though, the horse, which had been standing patiently up until then, tossed her head and tried stepping away. I didn't have time to school Tristan's horse on standing still, so I swung my leg over anyways, and made a direct route for the gate before anything else delayed me. I was out of here, at least for the morning. I got through the gate easily and as soon as the horse was warmed up, I took off, regardless of the slippery snow and frozen ground. I needed the speed, I needed to get away. But the question is, how does one run away from their self?