Hours later Toril awoke to see that darkness had fallen, and that they were just reaching the outskirts of the newly-set up camp. Tristan's horse was breathing heavily, and Toril realized that they had probably just stopped galloping through the forest on a scouting run to make sure the perimeter was safe. She sighed softly, enjoying the circle of Tristan's arms and the firm pillow his shoulder made for just a moment longer. She laughed softly and felt Tristan's head turn and look down at her, his beard tickling her forehead.
"I'm just thinking...Arthur sent you out to scout, did he not?" Tristan nodded, remembering the looks he had gotten when the other knights saw Toril sharing his saddle, cuddled up to him and sleeping like a baby. Toril chuckled.
"The other knights probably think that you're daft, on a run with a sleeping passenger." Tristan nodded again, a ghost of a smile on his face, his voice low.
"They never know what to think when it comes to me." Toril looked up at him, her smile soft.
"And I'm sure you don't do anything to dissuade that, do you?" Tristan shrugged, guiding the horse into the trees.
"Never really felt like explaining myself." Toril just shook her head, wrapping her arms around Tristan's shoulders as he swung his right leg over the horse's neck and slid to the ground. He stood there for a moment with Toril's legs wrapped around his waist and his hands supporting her under her thighs, seemingly lost in thought. Toril cocked an eyebrow.
"Are you going to let me down?" His eyebrows jumped faintly and his hands immediately slid to her waist, allowing her to stretch her legs out and get her feet underneath her before he let her go and stepped away. One eyebrow flicked at her.
"When you decide to have a nap, you really have a nap." Toril grinned.
"It's hard work, being at full strength. What would you have done if we had been attacked?" Tristan shrugged, his voice nonchalant.
"Woken you up. I grabbed another bow and full quiver as we went past the caravan once, so you would have been armed." Toril looked at him craftily.
"How do you know I would have been able to use it?" Tristan shook his head and grabbed her right hand, lifting her fingers up to the faint light coming from the distant fire.
"Your fingertips are calloused." Toril smiled.
"Very observant of you." Tristan inclined his head very slightly, his gaze still fixed to Toril's slender fingers. His thumb absentmindedly stroked the soft skin on the underside of her wrist, and Toril felt a delicious shudder run down her spine. Her voice was slightly breathless.
"Tristan?" He dropped her hand like it burned him and took another step away, moving to remove his horse's saddle and brush her down, trying to regain his usual sense of calm and control. Toril took a deep, steadying breath and then moved to the dappled grey horse's head, murmuring softly and scratching her underneath the dark bridle. The horse snorted and tossed her head, then pressed her forehead to Toril's chest, her ears flicking. Toril grinned and complied, rubbing the elegant ears gently. Tristan glowered at her from underneath his dark hair.
"Filia doesn't usually like any other hand but mine." Toril smiled, her graceful hands moving over the horse's head and neck, scratching at all the hard-to-reach places.
"I have yet to meet a horse who was immune to my charms." Tristan snorted.
"So you're only in it for the conquests? It doesn't actually mean anything to you?" Toril's hand stilled, her eyes flying to where Tristan brushed Filia's smooth coat with a little more force than was necessary. His voice was low.
"Well that's a relief. I saved all the horses in the world from a horrible, unscratched fate when I pulled you from that cell." Toril's eyes widened and her hand dropped from Filia's nose. The horse nickered and nosed at her arm, but Toril didn't move. After a moment of shocked silence, Tristan's brown eyes rose to meet Toril's and flinched slightly when he saw her hurt expression. Neither of them said anything, but Tristan's eyes flickered into... guilt ...before he continued to brush Filia, albeit more gently.
"Toril..." She shook her head and stepped away, clasping her hands in front of her to keep them from trembling.
"Yes, Tristan. For all the horses in the world, I thank you." She turned and walked towards the campfire, leaving Tristan to gaze remorsefully after her. When she disappeared into the wagon, he turned back to Filia, who stamped a back leg impatiently.
"Damn it."