Beyond The Stone

Chapter 39

"Have no fear, milday, I have seen men recover from worse," Olivia told her as she inspected his wound.

Ava sniffed as the words made their way through the fog in her mind and registered.

"What?"

"I assisted the healers at the battle of Candore. I saw this sort of injury more than once. The wound is very near the side, and the flow of blood is stemmed by the shaft. He should survive it readily enough with proper care," Olivia expounded.

"He's not dead?" Ava noted with shock.

"I suspect he has just fallen unconscious on account of the pain, milady," Olivia told her truthfully.

"Oh, I'm so going to tease him about that when he wakes up," Ava noted optimistically as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

---

Tristan felt his senses return to him. There was life about him – lots of it. He pried his eyelids open to find out what was causing the buzz.

He was in a large, cozy room with thick wooden roof beams and a thatched ceiling. Beyond the partially closed door he could make out the bustle of tavern patrons enjoying their evening. He realized that he was at the White Horse Inn once more. Within the confines of the room, Tybalt was sharpening his blades for him, and Olivia was hanging up some garments that she'd just washed clean. The door opened wider, and Ava walked through it carrying some freshly picked daisies. Shocked surprise registered on her face when she saw him watching her.

"You're awake!" she noted happily as she passed the flowers to Olivia and half ran to his bed-side.

"I had thought myself dead," Tristan noted with a little confusion as he glanced down at his prone body.

He was bare-chested, with only a neat bandage covering a small portion of his torso. His eyes met hers inquiringly.

"Well I know how much you hate sleeping in a shirt..." Ava teased, ignoring his silent request for more information about his health.

She let a hand fall onto the naked skin of his chest. Her fingers began to trace the grooves on it lovingly. Tristan grabbed up her hand with his own and stopped her, forcing her eyes to meet his once again.

Tybalt and Olivia glanced at each other from across the room, then started to sneak away dutifully.

"Thy eyes..." Tristan mused again, taking a moment to enjoy staring into them.

They were so filled with life – so spirited!

"You're not so bad yourself," Ava shot back with a smile.

She'd done plenty of staring while he'd been healing. Nothing could have prepared her for seeing Tristan properly for the first time. He had a chiseled jaw-line, a perfectly-shaped nose and a neat, flat forehead. His hair was dark brown and shoulder length, but he kept it tied back from his face with a sort of top-knot. His face had grown a sexy, light layer of stubble in the three days since he'd last been trimmed. She thought he was surprisingly hipster for an 850-year-old man! Now, with his grey-blue eyes open and framed by his long, dark lashes, the picture was complete.

"...though you are perhaps a bit old for me," she joked.

"I shall show thee old," Tristan growled playfully as he started to pull her on top of himself.

He grunted a little as pain sang out in his stomach from the effort. Ava put her hands over his biceps to stop him, then gently mounted his thighs.

Tristan glanced down at her careful positioning, and let his head fall back with a grin.

"Thy did miss the mark," he told her brazenly.