Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to the movie King Arthur or the Arthurian Legends.

AN: Finally, I have been able to write a simple fluff piece. I hope you enjoy it. And the name Eithne is pronounced Enya.

Sir Gawain and the Blue Lady

The sweet zephyrs of late summer blew through the hills and glens on Britain, as summer said its final goodbyes. Autumn was coming quickly and soon the harvests would be ready. The warm and lush scents of life were beginning to be replaced by those of decaying autumn. The wild flowers were waving their last buds to the ever adoring world before they too began the long hibernation of winter. The willows still clung to the weeping leaves over the glassy lakes hidden deep within the forests, but soon they too would release their last vestiges of life.

The weather was unusually warm for a late British afternoon as Gawain decided to make the best of his free time. The knights had just completed a mission, and Arthur had given them several days to recover. Gawain was one of few of them without serious injury, so he was free to do as he pleased for the day. Given the wonderful weather, Gawain had chosen to enjoy a long ride with his stallion. He had not been to the lake all summer, and he hoped that it was not too late to enjoy a brief swim before summer ended. Though many joked that he was just as bad as Lancelot when it came to chasing skirts, Gawain was far from dependent on the attentions of the fairer sex. Lancelot was it the tavern that very moment enjoying such attentions. Gawain, however, would much rather feel the caress of the warm breeze through his tangled mane, or enjoy the calming waters of the British forests.

Gawain kicked his charger into a leisurely trot as they headed out of the stable and into the courtyard. Dagonet waved goodbye to the younger knight as he marched through the courtyard on his way to the infirmary, in order to help the fort's healer. Gawain returned the gesture before leading his horse toward the Wall, beyond which lay his destination. Tristan was on watch as Gawain approached, and he silently motioned for the guards to open it allowing Gawain to exit. Tristan kept a close eye on the distant forest as Gawain rode just making sure that nothing lay in wait for his fellow knight.

Gawain hadn't been at such peace in a long time. The gentle breeze cooled his heated brow, and the sun shown above in a rare display of glory. Though the forest was thick and dangerous, Gawain could think of nothing more relaxing than leisurely riding through the underbrush. His horse knew the way to the pond without guidance, and the blonde knight allowed the creature to take its lead. It was rare for Gawain to let his guard down, but today he felt at ease even as he rode through enemy territory. His usually feral demeanor had been replaced by one of calmness, as he enjoyed his limited freedom.

The pond was just ahead, and Gawain could already hear the calming rush of the waterfall as it cascaded over the rocky ledges. Gawain took a deep breath and could feel the cool air fill his lungs as though he had breathed in new life. Then suddenly the spell was broken when Gawain heard a small splash come from up ahead. There was someone else at the pond, and that could only mean one thing. Woads were here. Quickly, Gawain dismounted and grabbed the bow that Tristan had ingrained in him never to leave the fort without. Gawain tied his horse to a low hanging branch, and disappeared into the thick foliage. Taking on stealth that none of the others would believe he possessed, Gawain made his way toward the pond. Finding a low hanging branch of a tree near the pond, Gawain silently climbed into it. Once situated out of sight, Gawain began to scan the surrounding pond.

At first, he neither saw nor heard anyone else around. However, after several minutes of lying across the high branch, Gawain heard a faint noise. It began only as a soft humming, but slowly progressed into a melodic voice. Gawain could not understand the words that the angelic voice was singing, but he felt calmed by the soft singing even if he could not see where it came from.

Then slowly almost timidly, a small figure emerged from behind a nearby rock. It was the figure of a young woman, no more than twenty summers old. The sun that broke through the thick canopy of trees, created almost an aura of light around her. She hand long wavy chestnut hair that hung down to the small of her back, effectively covering her bare chest. She was clad in only a pair of leather leggings and a multitude of blue paint. Gawain had to stifle a gasp as he saw her walked cautiously toward the water's edge. She was a very petite woman who would have only reached his chest if she were standing at her full height, but she was perfection in Gawain's eyes. He knew her skin was that of porclein even though it was now covered in woad. She was not extremely curvy, but Gawain could see that she was all woman, just the same. From where he lay, he could not see her face, but he was determined to see it none the less.

The young woman approached the spot below the tree in which Gawain hid, and slowly sat upon a flat rock beneath it. Gawain could still not see her face, and it frustrated him to no end. The Woad slowly reached her hands into the clear water of the pond as she continued to sing peacefully. Gently she brought the water in cupped hands to sprinkle it over her arms. She rubbed the die off her blue tinted skin in practiced stokes. Gawain could tell that her eyes were closed as she enjoyed the cool water dancing on her skin, without seeing her face. He once again had to hold himself back from making his presence known to her. He knew he should not watch her, her modesty was still intact so he did not feel quite guilty.

When her arms were cleaned to only a dull shade of blue, the girl pulled her hair all to one side and draped it in front of her shoulder, giving Gawain full view of her glorious back. Gawain closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself against doing anything rash. However, as she leaned over the pond to gather more water, he took the opportunity to crawl further out on the branch in order to see the reflection of her mysterious face in the water. At first, he couldn't see anything because her hands disturbed the surface of the water, but when she brought the water over her back to wet it, she let her head tilt back giving Gawain a full view of her beautiful face and a partial view of her bared chest. Her eyes were still closed and she continued to sing, but Gawain was no longer focused on her voice.

He crawled up as far as he could and watched her reflection as she leaned over the water once again. Suddenly, Gawain heard a loud crack from the branch he was resting on. The girl's eyes flew open and he caught a glimpse of the most brilliant emerald eyes he'd ever saw before realizing that they saw him as well. Immediately, her singing stopped, and before anything else could happen, she was disappearing into the depths of the pond. Gawain cursed his luck, but before he could move he heard another crack and he was falling into the pond as well. Gawain hadn't had a chance to catch his breath or prepare for impact, so he was dazed as he entered the water. He felt his lungs filling with water but before he could choke, he felt two very delicate hands tugging him back to the surface.

The pair broke the surface together, and Gawain felt himself being pulled onto a nearby rock that wasn't littered with the remains of the fallen branch as well as Gawain's bow. He was laid on his back and before he could even open his eyes, he felt a firm thrust to his chest and immediately his lungs were emptying themselves of the water he had breathed in. Gawain choked for several moments before he opened his eyes only to be met with those same emerald eyes he had seen just before falling. However, they were going just as fast as the last time, as the young woman scuttled away from him in fear. Gawain could see her nervously covering her chest from his view and trying to put a safe distance between them.

Gawain slowly sat up with his palms raised in a show of peace. "I don't want to hurt you," he said very slowly in Latin. When the girl only scooted further away, he realized that Latin was not the language to use on her. Cursing the fact that he never took Tristan up on his offer to teach them the language of the Woads, Gawain reverted to the only other language he knew. "I mean you no harm," he said in the language of his tribe. The girl didn't move any further away, but neither did she relax in his presence. "Thank you for helping me," he said very slowly as he motioned to the water and the broken branches. The girl continued to clutch at her chest, but she had lost the frightened look that had invaded her eyes before.

"Sarmatian," he heard the word slip from her lips as though it was extremely hard to say. Gawain simply nodded and moved a bit closer to her. "Like the scout," she said in a very broken version of the dialect that Tristan spoke. Now it was Gawain's turn to be shocked into silence as he heard her very dulcet voice speak the language of his brother in arms.

"How do you know Tristan," Gawain asked in a very slow and calm voice.

"He was injured, and mother protected him. She saved his life, and he taught her his language while he healed. They love each other greatly, but they must wait until his service is over before they can be together," the girl continued to speak brokenly, but Gawain understood her words none the less. Gawain was shocked by the revelation, but was not surprised by the scout's love for a Woad. After all who better would understand Tristan's love for the wilderness than a woman who lived in it her self? "You know Tristan," she asked timidly as she looked down at herself embarrassedly.

Gawain took her distraction as and opportunity to get closer to her. "Yes, we are good friends," Gawain assured her as he knelt in front of her. Gawain put his index finger below her chin and lifted her face so that he could gaze into her emerald depths. "What is your name," he asked very slowly.

"Eithne," she whispered as she gazed up into his eyes with her large green ones. Gawain could tell that she was still frightened, but not as much as she was self conscious. "What…"

Gawain put a finger to her lips and said gently, "My name is Gawain. I will return in a moment," he said as he ran into the foliage to retrieve his horse, when he returned he saw Eithne trying desperately to cover herself with her flowing hair. Gawain quickly retrieved his long cloak from his saddle bags and draped it over her bare shoulders. "As I said, I mean you no harm," Gawain assured her as he sat beside her.

"I had not known anyone came here. Not even the Woads use this pond," Eithne said as she closed the cloak around her.

"That is why I come here, less chance of getting killed," Gawain said with mirthful laughter. Eithne returned his smile with small laughter of her own. "I am sorry that I intruded upon your bath, milady. It was not my intention, but I was hoping for my own," Gawain said as he felt the tension draining from the air.

"It is I who am sorry. I should not have come, mother told me I shouldn't," she said in a small voice. "I am always doing what I shouldn't."

"Well, I for one am glad that you came," Gawain said as he sat beside her. "I have not heard such sweet singing in nearly fifteen long years."

"But I sing terribly," Eithne said in disbelief.

"You have to voice of a goddess, Eithne, and the looks to match," he said as he tugged a strand of her silky chocolate hair. Eithne blushed at his kind words and buried her angelic face in the folds of the cloak he gave her. "Look at me," he said as he once again lifted her chin. Slowly she let their gazes meet again, but this time she saw nothing but love in his crystal blue orbs. "You are very beautiful, as is your voice."

"I should really be going. Mother will worry if I do not return," she said timidly again as she made to rise.

"You have yet to finish your bath," Gawain said as he pointed to the blue that still covered her beautiful figure. "Come, we can both bathe. I promise I shall be the perfect gentleman," Gawain offered calmly as he began to tug his tunic up over his tawny mane of sopping hair. Eithne was shocked by his ease at removing his clothes before her eyes, and knew that he was simply trying to even the playing field and put her at ease. Silently nodding Eithne let his cloak fall to the ground, as she knelt beside the pond.

Suddenly she heard a large splash come from the center of the pond, as Gawain plunged into the crystal water. She was stunned when he surfaced again and the late afternoon light played off his white freckled skin. She giggled when he made a face at her and began to splash at her mercilessly. Suddenly, he disappeared under the surface again, and before she could locate him she felt two strong arms pull her into the water with him. She shrieked but was silenced when she felt herself pressed to him strong chest. Gazing up into his blue depths, Eithne's breath caught in her throat. Before she could say anything she felt his gentle lips upon her own in a chaste kiss, but it still sent shocks through her entire body.

"Forgive me, but my lips have a will of their own," Gawain said without a hint a remorse as he rested his forehead to hers. Instead of hearing a reply, Gawain felt Eithne's own timid lips returning the gesture. Eithne sighed as Gawain deepened the kiss while letting his arms travel down to the small of her back. Her own arms were securely wrapped around his neck. No more words were spoken as they playfully enjoyed each other in the warmth of the late afternoon.

XxXxXxX

It's was well past dark when Gawain returned to the fort. Tristan had just gotten off duty as he stepped off the wall. He watched as Gawain's horse followed Jols to the stable while Gawain stood in the courtyard. "Tristan," Gawain called as he saw the scout approaching. Tristan simply nodded his acknowledgment as he walked by. "I finally understand your love of the forest, my friend," Gawain said cheerfully. "Perhaps I shall join you on one of your scouting trips one of these days."

"You are not skilled enough not to get caught, Gawain," Tristan said as he walked toward the tavern. "Blue stands out far too much on your complexion," were the last words Tristan said as he disappeared into the night. Gawain stood there silently, shocked that Tristan knew exactly what he was speaking of, also shocked that he hadn't noticed the blue hue of his own skin. 'Damn,' Gawain thought as he made straight for his room, however, he was smiling as he thought of his own secret love awaiting his return.