The scorching sun was the biggest change, Lavinia thought as she drew a line in the sand with a long stick. Her even steps carried her further from the house she and Alexander now inhabited. The young woman paused to watch a few children running around. A soft smile passed her lips at the unfolding scene. Such sweet angels they were, these little ones. Upon seeing her, the group of children stopped and regarded her with interest. They dared not approach, declaring themselves satisfied with just a few long glances. Having had their fill, they returned to the games.

"Qani," she called out, signalling one of the servants over. Lavinia had plans for the day; plans that included fulfilling a promise she had made not too long ago, to an unfortunate, ailing soul. "Qani, I have to go somewhere. Tell Jazib to ready my horse."

Qani was a boy barely younger than her. He was tall with uncommonly handsome features. Also he was quite taken with the new mistress, always ready to carry out her orders just to see her smile at him. "Yes, m'lady. May I join you? Perhaps I will be of help," he offered hesitantly. Anyother master would have whipped him for speaking out of turn.

"No, Qani. Where I am going, you would not wish to come," Lavinia assured him. She raised herself on her tiptoes and riffled his hair. "Just see that Jazib prepares my horse."

"Mercy," the boy implored, "but the master has given orders that you are not to leave alone." Eyes of black begged the mistress to understand his predicament. "Allow me to follow you, m'lady as I was ordered."

"I see I have no choice." She nodded her head and folded her arms across her chest. "Very well, Qani, tell Jazib to prepare two horses." Lavinia bade him leave and turned on her heel, only to see a lithe form crossing the distance between herself and the house at a rapid pace. "Mahrosh, why do you hurry so?"

Mahrosh, as she was called, stopped before Lavinia and panted, unable to speak. She wiped the sweat from her forehead away and dragged in a gulp of air. "I have done as you requested, mistress." She handed Lavinia a small basket. "The gauze is strong, durable. I cut it, as instructed, in wide stripes." Mahrosh swallowed thickly, waiting for the next order.

"Thank you, Mahrosh," Lavinia said. "You may retire now. Go rest a bit. I am sure Rafia can manage the kitchen without you for a while longer." She watched the girl skip away and checked the basket. After a brief inspection, she nodded. Before another moment could pass, Qani returned with two horses and a large basket. "Did Nora give you that?" Lavinia asked simply.

Her answer was a sharp nod. "Which way, m'lady?" Qani helped her climb on top of her horse, then hoisted himself up on his.

Uncertainty filled Lavinia. Should she tell him? "I am going to see the lepers, Qani."She had never been good al lying anyway. "You can wait for me in the market if you wish," Lavinia finished.

"The lepers?!" exclaimed Qani frightened. "M'lady, I beg that you would reconsider. It is dangerous. The master would not like it."

"The master will have to get used to not liking some things," Lavinia wilfully retorted. "Now let us be on our way."

Making haste, the left behind the lands of Clerante. Qani was the one to lead, she he knew the roads far better than Lavinia. To be fair, all the young woman could tell was that sand covered everything. She would be completely lost if left on her own out there. The horse trembled underneath her as she held herself to it. This animal as a fair one, if she'd ever seen any. It was not the mare she had first ridden on, instead this stallion was as black as night and fast on its feet. A worthy best, Lavinia though, affectionately patting its mane.

The inner city had not changed much since the last time of her visit. It was still the same, dusty streets trampled by the crowd. The people were once more rushing in every direction, worried faces and thin awareness. Lavinia saw all this with little effort. "Qani, why is that woman wearing a veil?" she asked, finally noticing an elderly woman with her face covered, only bright green orbs visible.

The servant glanced to the person she was pointing at. "Her? 'This the law of the Muslims. A woman must cover her face; her beauty is only to be shared with those she wants to share it with."

"Is that so?" Lavinia questioned thoughtfully. "I like the sound of that. Say, Qani, do you think I could get something like that as well. I bet it does wonders to keep this insufferable heat away." She waited for his nod and then spoke again. "Well, I am off to see the lepers."

"You do not even know which way to go," Qani pointed out, climbing down from his horse. He pulled Lavinia off of hers. "I shall accompany you, but you will be no more than a few minutes, m'lady, ot master will have my head."

Finally understanding the stakes, Lavinia nodded. She did not really think her brother would kill this man but Alexander was best not tested. "You have my word that I shall only leave these there and go." Hazel eyes remained impassive for a short while. "Show me the way," she said without a trace of hesitation.

And so, lady and servant walked the streets of Jerusalem, their horses trailing after them. People infected with leprosy tended to stick together, more accurately they were forced together in small camps, as to keep them away from healthy persons. So it made sense that the leper community was easy to find as it was generally avoided by those not ill. Lavinia huffed quietly. "God, how can you endure this? Give me wisdom or else I fear for the safety of these creations' of yours." It was infuriating to witness just how much some humans were willing to ignore a problem. Instead of caring of the diseased, they pushed them in a corner, like dirt under the rug.

Deadra could be found sitting on the ground as she was wont to do. And indeed upon Lavinia's arrival the woman was sitting on the ground next to a young man. When she saw Lavinia, the leper tried to stand to her feet but was quickly ordered to cease moving. Deadra was handed the two baskets and some jars of ointment with instructions on how to use them.

"This is Noah," Deadrea said in that small voice of hers. "He is new here."

Noah was a tall, broad man with a heavy moustache and a trimmed beard. Once upon a time he had been good looking; a handsome one. There were still signs of refinement on his face, and Lavinia shuddered to think what had brought him in such condition, for it was obvious that leprosy was not his only problem.

"I am unable to stay Deadra," Lavinia stated apologetically. "I must return home before my bother arrives or I will create trouble. The only thing I can do for you is send provisions from time to time. Would you accept my help?"

"Be blessed, kind lady!" the woman exclaimed, exalted. "Do not say that you are no lady, because it is not true. You are the kindest, most generous lady to ever walk upon this earth."

Precious little time Lavinia was able to spend with those she felt most comfortable with before Qani whisked her away. The boy reminded her of her promise and Lavinia forced herself to follow it through. "Thank you, for helping me," she whispered to him. "Do you think supplies could be sent here one in awhile? I would so much like it if-"

"You do not need to ask. It is enough to order me, m'lady," Qani let her know. In all fairness, it was unheard of for a lady to ask something of her servants. She was their mistress and they existed to do her bidding. "Do not forget, here you are Lady de Clerante."

"I shan't ever get used to that," Lavinia informed him without remorse. "And a good thing it is. Power changes people."

They arrived in the main street. It was at that point that the unexpected occurred. A man shot out in front of their horses, forcing both to pull on the reigns to stop the beasts from moving. The small commotion that occurred served to draw everyone's attention to them. Lavinia had Qani make sure the victim was unharmed after which she was about ready to order that they return home.

"My Lady de Clerante!" a familiar voice calle4d from ahead, making Lavinia look up. Coming up to them through the parted crowd was Tiberais, the Marshal of Jerusalem. "What brings you here, unescorted?" His eyes barely took notice of Qani. "Does your lord brother know of your whereabouts?"

Whatever answer Lavinia might have offered was cut off by the appearance of another man. He walked behind lord Tiberias quickly, slapping a hand to the man's back. "Why did you hurry so, old friend?" He became aware of Lavinia's presence. After a short awkward moment on her part, he bowed. "I see. Forgive my rudeness, fair lady. I am Godfrey de Ibelin. At your service." He elbowed Tiberais.

"Lavinia de Clerante, " the young woman returned. She observed him with mild curiosity. "My brother knows all he must know, my lord Tiberais. You needn't worry after my welfare." She paused. "I was just about to return."

"De Clerante?" asked the man called Godfrey. "Are you perhaps the sister of young knight Alexander de Clerante?"

"Knight?" Lavinia was confused. Then she remembered the title that came with the lands. "Ah, yes. That would be me, sire. However I fail to see how that is relevant."

"But it is, my dear girl," de Ibelin continued, "for you must do us the honour of joining us. Sibylla, the Princess of Jerusalem, and her lord husband, Guy of Lusignan, extend an invitation to you, my lady. Your brother awaits your arrival."

Taking a moment to consider, Lavinia closed her eyes. The Princess and her husband, eh? She had not missed the mirth in de Ibelin's stare. What could that mean? Her brother was already there and everything she had heard implied that these two men would also be there. Lord Tiberias was a friend of her father's. Surely he would not let anything grievous happen to her. "Yes, of course." And suddenly she was glad for something. She was glad her brother waited for her there. "I cannot refuse such an offer." It would have been a capital offence. One she would have paid for with her head, Lavinia was sure.

If there was one things she had learned, then it was that those in power did not invite. They ordered. Not listening to said commands could bring about only pain. Even more so in this case where her value was debatable at best. Lavinia had no illusions. She was disposable; getting rid of her was easy. Best not to give them any cause, she cautiously reasoned. And so, she found herself following behind the men. Tendrils of heat brushed the top of her head but she was too lost in her thoughts to feel the message being sent her way. Just as well, for she would be more surprised for what waited her there. Should she worry senselessly over things out of her control, Lavinia contemplated silently. Of course not, let God's will prevail. She trusted herself in His hands. Whatever the Creator decided for her, she could not modify. A tired sigh left her lips. Trouble was an old friend.

Aware of the small sound she had made, Tberias almost turned to look at the young woman. He had no doubt that she had said not a word to her brother of this little outing of hers. No, she did not seem the type to do that. The Marshal considered her. From what other told him she was a woman of higher intellect than others, adding to which she had received a fair education. Alexander de Clerante had told him she was only a half-sister, which lest her more leeway. She was not expected to make a brilliant match so it did not matter if she spent more time with books, parchments, quills and not fussing over dresses. According to her brother, this girl only needed to find someone that could make use of her knowledge. That had sparked the Marshal's interest. It was uncommon for a woman to take so well to acquiring knowledge of the academicals kind. If they could convince her to aid them, then it would be all too well.

Like a good, obedient lady, Lavinia tailed Godfrey de Ibelin and Tiberias. Discreetly she let herself soak in the details. It was a lavish affair, she realised. Oh, she should have expected it. But what attracted her interest most of all was not the décor. Not at all. The image of a handsome man violently took over her vision. He was not very tall, certainly taller than her but significantly small than other men there. Even so his features were those of a Greek god. His beauty was of the dark sort; perhaps most like a serpent, carefully gliding through the grass biding its time, waiting for the right moment to strike. Apparently he had felt her eyes on him for he offered her a scrutiny of his own. Far from impressed, Lavinia shied away from such observation. He was dangerous; a lethal poison she did not wish to tough. Something warned her against him.

Next to the unknown man, sat a lady. She too was beautiful. Lavinia admired the way her dress suited her so well. She had a light shade of blue eyes, framed by thick lashes. Lips painted red, she kept them in a straight line. Lavinia thought it a pity for she would have been a sight. A thin strand of hair escaped the material gathered at the top of the woman's head, its onyx colour contrasting with the whiteness of her skin. The pallor was an advantage to her, Lavinia though, as she wore it so well. However, something was amiss. This woman was cold, a block of ice. She regarded all with a frosty stare. In her bones, Lavinia could feel it; she was no safer than the man next to her. Making a note to not get too close, the young woman turned her eyes to the ground. It would not do to be caught staring shamelessly.

"Allow me to introduce Lavinia de Clerante," the lord of Ibelin spoke, his booming voice garnering the attention of all. He prompted Lavinia to come closer. "I believe you've already met her brother."

True enough, Alexander was also at the table. To Lavinia's relief, there was an empty seat next to him. It was so very fine because the only other unoccupied spots were at the side of that handsome stranger and to the left of a blond man, heartily eating a chunk of meat.

"Welcome," the woman at the head of the table said. She smiled and Lavinia bowed. "I am Sibylla de Lusignan."

"Guy of Lusignan," the man recommended himself. He took one more look at Lavinia, something glinting in his eyes. "We are most pleased to have you at our table. Even if you did bring the likes of de Ibelin and Tiberias."

If it had been Guy's intention to shock Lavinia, then he had chosen wisely. It was clear there was no love lost between the three of them. Fearing that she would be entangled in game she was not adept at, the woman inclined her head, as if accepting the censure. In the back of her mind, she was already forming a plan to escape whatever scheme was being concocted at the moment. "I fear I am ill-equipped to be the judge of their worth, my lord." She had subtly let him know just what she though of his words.

Recognizing the meaning behind what was said, Sibylla smiled once more. "I see that you and I shall be great together." One long, elegant finger beckoned Lavinia over. "Come, sit by me, for I have sorely missed female company. De Gounard will not mind."

The man that was mentioned got up with a flourish. He pulled the chair for Lavinia and moved a seat back. Taking the place that was assigned to her Lavinia thought she might have kept quiet. Now she could not possibly leave this. "You honour me too greatly."

"Nonsense," Sibylla countered. She raised her glass filled with wine, "To Jerusalem! May God bless you all and keep you in good health!"

"To Jerusalem," came the wave of voices, ready to drink. It mattered little for what, Lavinia knew it well. She took a sip of her own wine and then put it back on the table. She barely even toughed her food all through the meal. What she did do was hold a conversation with the Princess of Jerusalem. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge, Lavinia mulled over. Sibylla was not a bad person; at least she did not seem to be so, but one could hardly be sure after knowing the woman for less than a day. The Princess was thrilled to have a partner to talk to and although Lavinia's interventions were sparse, Sibylla's manner spoke of the good time she was having.

There was one thing Lavinia found disconcerting though. Guy was continuously staring at them. At first she thought he was merely looking at his wife. Who could blame him? She was gorgeous, after all. But Guy was not watching Sibylla at all. In stead his eyes had glued themselves to Lavinia's face to her great consternation. She ignored it as best as she could, blaming it on the alcohol. She was a novelty for the time being and the lord had drunk much wine. This was the only explanation that came to mind. It would be untoward to think anything else of it, not when Lavinia's only wish was for him advert his gaze. She was not her mother. She would not be taken in by some lord who found himself bored.

"Would you like to see the gardens?" Sibylla's voice brought Lavinia out of her reverie. The young woman nodded her head to Sibylla delight. "You walk down that path. They are straight ahead." Of course, there was something else to that too. Sibylla had seen the girl getting uncomfortable and she knew the source. Her husband could not be trusted to leave the girl alone. She would let the poor dear relax in the gardens and her husband would sit with his drink by her. "Go on then."

Thankful for the exit, Lavinia jumped to her feet. She nodded once in Alexander's direction and took the indicated path. The Princess had not led her astray, for a few seconds of walking brought her to a small pond surrounded by plan life. Brushing her rebellious hair back, Lavinia sat on the soft grass, nit minding that she might stain her dress. In truth she cared nothing for dresses, she only wore them for the sake of propriety.

Something sounded behind her. Lavinia leaped right out of her skin, thinking that perhaps Guy had followed her out. She prayed to the good Lord that it was not so. Frightened eyes, and quivering heart, she turned around to discover that she was in no real danger. Lavinia now faced the strangest site she had seen the whole day. Before her a man stood, using a crutch. Normally she would not consider it something out of the normal but this man was also wearing a mask. She caught on to his own surprise and a peal of laughter escaped her lips. She was not her mother, Lavinia firmly reminded herself. "Thank God," she muttered. "Forgive me," she addressed the stranger, "I did not mean to disturb. The Princess Sibylla allowed me to come here."

"Did she now?" a smooth voice questioned from behind the mask. Lavinia thought she heard some bitterness but ignored it. Instead she considered the sound itself. He could not be a bad person, she decided. A bad person could not possibly sound so soothing. But she wondered why he wore a mask and bandages wrapped around him. Could it be that he had some sort of affliction? Pondering over that she almost did not catch his next inquiry. "And who are you?"

"Oh Heavens! My manners," Lavinia chided herself. "Forgive my rudeness, I am Lavinia de Clerante." She curtsied, fully expecting him to return the gesture.

"And my sister let you come here?" he continued as if he had not even heard her. "Why?"

"I imagine that she wished it so. It is not my place to question the decisions of my highers." For the life of her Lavinia could not figure out what made him so irritable. "Again, I am sorry for being a nuisance. I shall leave you to your leisure time the, mu lord."

"Stay," he ordered. "I have nothing against you being here but I must warn you, just in case. It is clear that you do not know who I am. Before you stands the King of Jerusalem."

Had he expected her to faint or run for the hills, he was sorely mistaken. Lavinia blinked in confusion before dipping in a bow again. "You say that like I am not supposed to want to stay here if the King is near."

"Do you not have ears woman? Can you not see?" the King lashed out. "Or is it that your life is worth so little you would just throw it away?"

Then it came to Lavinia's mind. She had heard rumours in the street, yet never paid them much mind. People talked that the King was ill. They said he was a leper. "On the contrary, I very much cherish my life."

"Then why have you not left?" Baldwin pressed further, limping a few steps closer to her. "If you so much cherish your life?"

"Because, my liege," she leaned in as if sharing a secret with him, "I am in no danger here." A small smile graced her features. I would not stay otherwise."

"Do you believe yourself immune to the scourge? Or is it that you have already contacted the illness?" His eyes riveted behind the mask. "You do not seem like it."

"That is because I am not," Lavinia assured him. "I have no knowledge of being immune. Nor am I looking to become ill. But I must confess that in all my time spent with affected people I have yet to develop a similar condition to theirs."

"What an interesting sort you are. Fair then, help me sit down, if you are not too afraid that is," Baldwin said thinking he might corner her, and all that bravery would disperse.

Happy to be of some help, finally, Lavinia wounded her arm gently around his back and they both sat down on a stone bench. "Is it so hard to believe?" she asked, a mix of curiosity and something undefined in her voice.

"Does who do not fear me, generally pity me. To this day I cannot say which of the two is worse." It was something not easily told and Lavinia felt it to her heart.

"Do you deserve their pity?" she questioned, not him, not anyone but herself. "Shall we see? You are a stricken with leprosy. It is unfortunate but so are others. Then again you are also a king, you have a country to run. I assume you cannot afford to show weakness. Therefore you must be strong, or others would have long since deposed you. What I see is a man who lives his life honourably; he does his duty even when he could so very easily blame his being unwell for a weak rule. But don't do that, do you?" Lavinia looked at the mask. "I have no pity to offer to you because you have no need of it. I don't do gratuitous things."

"Interesting indeed," the King mussed. "Then what do you offer. I suppose it is something if you are still here."

"The only thing that I can offer," she replied. "My company for a few hours until my brother decides we should return home."

"Your company?" He seemed baffled, which prompted Lavinia to go back over what she had said. A wave of red attacked her cheeks.

"Do not misunderstand, my liege. I beg that you wouldn't," she pleaded softly. "I only meant that I should like to stay here and talk."

"I was not implying otherwise," Baldwin offered. A small chuckle followed his words. "I believe I have made you uncomfortable, my apologies."

"No need, my liege. I am well." As well as one might be after embarrassing herself, Lavinia thought dully.

A comfortable silence settled over them. Lavinia turned her face to the plants, bent on studying them. Who knew when she would again have such a chance? She admired the small red flowers. There were no such flowers back home, with such sharp edges. With a wistful sight she entertained a thought of her departed parents for a moment. They had left her all alone. Well, God gives and God takes, she could do no more than to accept what was given to her to carry.

"Do you wish to return to my sister's side?" Baldwin asked upon hearing her sigh. He thought that perhaps she had grown bored. The King feared his social skills were not all they were supposed to be, especially not when young women were concerned.

As a young boy he had been decidedly handsome, with eyes the colour of the sea and hair like the blackest coal. Had he not been a leper, Baldwin thought, he might have been quite as good looking as Sibylla's no good husband. That man was a pest and his sister realised her mistake too late. His mother, Agness, often said that her son would break many heart. And he did, but not quite in the way she had envisioned. His poor mother, Baldwin smiled bitterly. Nothing could ever get the image of her hysterical crying out of his mind. She had not taken the news of his illness well. Even now her eyes filled with tears if they happened to be alone in a room.

"Not at all," Lavinia answered, "my liege." And she did not; it was more than enough the time she spent there. "I declare I am quite pleased to just sit here. It is far more agreeable as far as I am concerned."

Baldwin took the time to analyze the girl. She was young, he decided. Somewhere around his age, maybe even younger. It was a wonder she was not married, for the girl looked ready for such a step. Or maybe she was and he did not know. However she had not mentioned a husband, only a brother. Should he ask? Should he not? Taking a chance, he decided to ask. "How is it that you find yourself out here alone? Does your husband not watch over you?"

"I believe he would if I had one," she carelessly answered, a shy smile pressing itself to her lips. "I have the unfortunate tendency to get myself in trouble. It stems form the fact that I am what some might call overly curious. As it is I am only exasperating my brother."

"So you are in the care of your brother?" He did not expect an answer to that. "How old are you then, for I confess I cannot tell."

"Old enough," she jokingly shot back at him. "It is of no consequence what my age might be. Why should it matter?"

"It does not, in truth." Best let the matter go. "What is it that occupies you time, my lady?"

"Oh, I'm sure you would find it all very boring." Lavinia clasped her hands together. "But if it is the truth you want, I like reading."

"Then you are no less boring than I," he teased in good humour. "Do you play chess?"

"Not often and very poorly," she admitted. "I have not had the chance to practice, not since my father's death." The words had left her mouth of their own accord. "My mother was even worse than I."

Avoiding mentioning her parents, Baldwin made her a proposition. "Then shall we make an arrangement? You may come play chess with me whenever you wish it. In exchange for that you must promise to come at least once a month."

"Play chess with the King?" Lavinia could not believe what she was hearing. He nodded. "Very well then, but don't complain when I get to be too much to handle."

It dawned upon her that he was awfully lonely. Of course he was, she thought. His sister was married. She had a husband to look after. The servants were just that, servants. What he lacked was appropriate company. He needed a soul he could feel close to on a more intimate basis. What was required was more than trust. Lavinia saw that he was deprived of affection. Not a problem, she had enough to spare. And she wanted to be a friend to this mysterious man.

The seed had already been planted. The only thigh it took for it to grow was time. And time was still there for them. The summer night of 1179 marked a beginning. It was a moment that would forever stay with them; in their hearts. Until the very end of their journey together, neither would forget that it had been for that fateful night that they could built a future together.

A/N: Okay so, I managed to write the whole thing today . I spent hours on this. Hopefully it was wroth it.

Can't wait to hear what you have to say. :)

One more thing, the year is 1179, which makes Baldwin eighteen and Lavinia sixteen, for she is two years younger than him.