Disclaimer: I own nothing so therefore it would be in both of our interests if you do not sue me. I mean that in the nicest term possible. So again, I am in no ownership of anything except my imagination, which I would like to keep. Thank you.
Summary: A woman shares a connection with Tristan.
He watched as she stepped out of her hut and laughed at the antics of her children. Two small nine year old children. A boy and a girl. Dusk was the boy and Mercy was the girl. Mercy being the spitting image of her mother while Dusk was the spitting image of his father.
He didn't know how or even know why, but the instant that he came to this disgusting land he found a helpful spirit in the young girl. She was awfully young when he met her. She had been eleven years old and had a fiery spirit that she carried on to this day.
"You're awfully quiet." She observed as she passed him on the field.
He took his gaze off the stretching ocean before and acknowledged the young girl before him. He stared at her for several minutes expecting her to back down from his intensive stare but she just stared right back.
"Not only are you awfully quiet but you're awfully boring." She walked off with a huff and left him wondering exactly what had happened.
She seemed so at peace with her children that he felt his heart break. He knew that he would never see her again. Unless she came with him to Sarmatia but he knew that she would never agree. It was part of her fiery spirit that he loved and hated. Mercy shrieked with laughter when her mother picked her up and twirled her around. He knew that he could spend days just watching them and not get bored. Unfortunately he came here to do something and this was something that couldn't wait.
He walked quietly from the woods and made his way to the small hut adorning the two children and the one woman who could infuriate him to the point of no return, yet make him laugh and smile like no one else could.
"I was wondering when you were going to come out of your hiding spot." She said turning around to face him.
"You knew I was there the whole time?" He was surprised and she knew it, but his voice stayed the same monotone way.
"It was you who taught me everything I know Tristan."
So it was. "I never knew you could someday rival my skills." He muttered.
She threw her head back and laughed. "Afraid that I'll take your place as the rightful Scout of the honorable Sarmatian knights?" She taunted.
"Sophia…" Tristan warned.
Sophia rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Fine. I can take a hint when someone wants to joke and when they don't." She looked over to where her two children were playing and called them over. "Dusk, Mercy, go inside for a moment."
While Mercy obediently obeyed her mother and stepped inside of the house walked up to his mother. Black curls bouncing on his head. "Mother, why?"
"For a moment Dusk, than you may come back out."
Dusk stared at his mother in disbelief and than looked at Tristan. No matter how many times Tristan looked at Dusk he couldn't help feeling the insanely familiarity of his gaze and his looks. When Dusk finally trudged up to the hut and slammed the door behind him Tristan turned toward Sophia just in time to watch her sigh. "He looks more like his father every time I see him."
"Looks and attitude." She muttered underneath her breath. "How is he anyways?"
"Who Lancelot?" Of course it was Lancelot. Tristan silently said to himself. It's always Lancelot.
"He is the father. And as the mother it is my rightful duty to ask about the man who helped conceive my children."
"And as the father he has the rightful duty of actually sticking around." He retorted. It seemed that whenever he was around Sophia the stoic knight, he always was, became a different man.
She rolled her eyes. A trait that he was now familiar with. "Don't start Tristan." She warned. "Besides it was my decision too wasn't it? Anyways, you never answered the question."
"Lancelot's fine. He's just fantastic. Although his friendship with Arthur will probably go down the hill sooner or later."
She gave him a confused glance. "Why? They've always been the best of friends."
He nodded. "That was until Guinevere. The Woad Arthur rescued from the dungeons."
Sophia scoffed. "Only Lancelot would pull something like that."
Yes, only Lancelot would pull something like that.
He stared at her in wonder as she walked around the Tavern dodging drunken men's hands and threatening anyone who dared to touch her after her warnings. She was a beauty unlike any of the other women here. Her flawless skin creamy and pale. Not deathly pale, but a pale that had a healthy glow to it. Her hair black as night swishing back and forth as she walked. Her eyes a brilliant shade of green that would put the greenest fields to envy. Her body petite but curvy in all the right places. He knew that he towered over her when he stood up to his full height. She would just glare at him, stand on her tiptoes and whisper in his ear, "Showoff." It was her voice so close to his ear that sent his stomach reeling backwards. It was her voice that he heard at night in his dreams. Hers and no one else's.
Needless to say he was surprised when Lancelot glared at her when she came around to their table. "You shouldn't be here." Lancelot stated.
"And I shouldn't have been in your room a month ago but there I was and here I am now and there's nothing you can do about it." She shot back. Tristan sank down into the shadows his mind reeling over what they were saying.
"So you're going to let drunken men touch you and have their way with you?" Lancelot asked her sarcastically.
"Isn't that what you did?" She retorted. She sighed and put her hand to her forehead. "It pays Lancelot. So do me a favor and leave me alone. I'll ask nothing of you. Exactly how we talked about it." She swiftly turned around and made her way to another table.
Realization hit Tristan like a slap in the face. She was pregnant and his fellow knight.The man that he considered a brotherwas the father.
Fingers snapped in front of his face. His eyes snapped toward the impatient dark haired girl. "About time you came around." She snapped.
"So terribly sorry your majesty." Tristan mocked.
Sophia narrowed her eyes and gave him a glare that would have made any other man run to face his death than be a victim of Sophia's glare. But Tristan wasn't any other man, he was…Tristan.
"You didn't come here for small talk Tristan, what do you want?"
He didn't waste any time. "The Saxons are coming soon and you and your children have to leave."
"We will not."
"You have to."
Sophia regarded him a cool stare. "Tristan, I don't know who you think you're talking to but I'm not some helpless woman I will stay here, in my home, with my children."
"You're not only risking your life but your children's lives as well." Tristan told her.
"I know what I am doing." She turned around and started to walk to her hut.
"This is suicide!" He called out to her.
Sophia turned back around and went up to him. "If you call what I am doing suicide than what you're doing is a form of cowardice. Running away from a battle because your time is up? What sort of knight are you?"
He grabbed her hands and roughly pulled her toward him. "I'm a knight who chooses to live." He hissed
She pulled away from him a snarl on her face. "And I choose to stay here where I belong."
"Where do you belong Sophia? Beside the bar wenches?" He snapped without a second thought as to what came out of his mouth.
His eyes went wide as the palm of her small hand connected with his cheek with a resounding smack. "You're never going to forgive me for that are you? It was one night. And if I had a choice to go back in time I wouldn't. Not for one moment would I ever think about changing what happened." She stared at him tears stinging her eyes. "Answer me something Tristan. Are you mad that I got pregnant while I was so young, or are you mad because it's Lancelot that's the father of my children and not you?"
And just like that she pin-pointed the exact thing that angered him for the past several years. It was the fact that Lancelot got to her first and not him. He supposed that it was due to the strange and unexplainable connection between them.
It was him who turned around and walked away from her this time. He turned around and kept walking the same way he came.
"That's right Tristan walk away, just like the coward you are!" Sophia screeched at his back.
Tristan kept on walking not looking back and not bothering to say good-bye.
She gasped with pain and doubled over. Mercy screamed and Dusk rushed over to his mother tapping her gently on the face.
"Mama!"
Sophia screamed in pure agony as she lay sprawled out on the floor writhing in a pain that she couldn't even start to explain. Tears streamed down her cheeks so fast that she barely had time to blink. It hurt so much. She whimpered and screamed. She hated this. She hated being weak.
She tried getting back up but failed and fell back down. She groaned and tried to give her children a lopsided, which failed miserably due to the pain that overcame her body.
She shook her head and begged to be wrong. It couldn't be happening. He couldn't…she broke the thought off. She screamed out in pain once again. She could feel the connection breaking.
She hadn't even been able to say good-bye.
He wished that he hadn't been so stubborn. He wished he could take that one moment back and rush back to her, collect her in his arms and kissed her with the passion he felt. But he couldn't. He couldn't turn back time.
His mind reeled back and forth. Collecting all the moments that they shared.
He watched as his hawk flew across the sky. The hawk was a gift from her. He watched and watched until his eyes closed with one last thought streaking through his mind: Good-bye Sophia.
She was lying on her side sobbing uncontrollably. Her children lying beside her, wrapping their arms around her. Consoling her as she sobbed to her hearts content.
The connection was gone. She couldn't feel him anywhere. She kept on expecting him to come through the door any minute, but minutes passed as did the hours, and he never came.
A small whisper carried by the wind swarmed around her head. Good-bye Sophia. That sent her into more hysterics. His voice. The low rumbling voice that she would never get to hear again.
"Good-bye Tristan." She whispered to the empty room. She held on to her children praying that somehow in the afterlife he got the message.
So I am in love with King Arthur but I just had to find a good story to write. I find that King Arthur stories and stories held in that era are harder to write than modern ones. That's just me. Some how I think that this story was sort of weak, but that's just my opinion.
Anyways leave a review please and thank you.
The words in Italics are either a memory or a person's thoughts.