ITALY, 1160
The wind that blew in icy gusts of wintry force outside of the small tavern did nothing to dampen the spirit inside. Nevertheless, the gale could be distinctly heard over the drunken hubbub. Warmed by a fire, many close bodies, and alcohol, the crowd was content to sit and be loud rather than venture to the storm outside.
The innkeeper was himself drunk - so drunk, in fact, that he had ceased demanding compensation for the beer that he was readily providing for the entire tavern. He didn't seem to mind (and neither, especially did his customers) but his fiery, redheaded daughter certainly did, as she had spent a greater portion of the day brewing it herself.
After clearing a spill from under a table of raucous farmhands (one of whom had tried to get handsy with her, to which she responded with a hearty slap across the face), Anna spotted her father filling up another pint for a man who was smiling maliciously. Picking up her skirts and setting her face in the most intimidating scowl she could manage, she strode over to the counter and snatched away the beer as her father was about to hand it over to the man.
"Papa," Anna said in exasperation. "You can't give away our whole keg." The man blinked at his daughter blankly, not cognizant of what she was saying, or even what was happening.
"That's mine-" the man across the counter said, trying to lunge for the mug in Anna's grip.
"No, Hans," she spat, finally recognizing her neighbor with an edge of disdain. "You've had enough."
"You're going to waste it," he growled, snatching at it again as she held it at arms length.
"I beg to differ," she said, and without another word, tipped the mug to her lips and chugged the entire pint as Hans looked on in dejection at the loss of a perfectly good drink. When she had downed it all, she slammed the empty, foaming mug on the counter, letting out her breath in a satisfied hiss. Hans stared at the mug in disbelief, then threw Anna a look of disgust before taking his leave.
Anna watched as he threw his cloak over his shoulders and headed for the door - but it opened before he was three feet away. A horrible, bitter cold swept through the tavern - all talk was hushed, the fire was buffeted by the draft and all eyes were immediately fixed to the white figure silhouetted on the threshold. Hans cringed as the stranger pushed roughly past him, causing the farmer to stumble back against a nearby table.
Anna gasped when the white figure stepped into the light and her father voiced in wonder the thought that had been frozen at the tip of her own tongue: "A Templar Knight."
Though covered in snow, there was no mistaking the uniform - heavy chainmail, white mantel painted with a crimson cross, metal helmet, silver sword glinting at the leather belt.
They were in trouble if a knight was here. The Templar Knights were forbidden from many things - eating, drinking, socializing - or so Anna had been told. She had heard many terrifying stories of the vicious training undertaken by such knights, which transformed them into bloodthirsty warriors who were ordered never to accept defeat or give up their positions on the battlefield, to kill until every enemy was slain or until they themselves had fallen. The wars were waging worlds away. What was this lone knight doing here of all places?
No one had moved at the knight's arrival except Hans, who wasted no time, once the knight's back was turned, to finish his exit, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him. The knight seemed not to notice this noise, and without further ado, and with encumbered steps, he lumbered straight over to Anna and her father behind the counter. Anna watched, heart in her throat, as he approached and sat down heavily on a stool, snow melting and dripping down from the uniform and onto the floor below. She took this gesture as a sign that they weren't in any immediate trouble after all, but with her father's reputation she knew the idea hadn't been impossible.
"Hiya," she said tentatively. In response, the knight merely pointed a hefty gauntleted hand at the keg behind her, indicating that he desired beer. Anna found this request odd, as she assumed Templar Knights didn't drink, but obliged him anyway, more frightened than curious at his behavior.
The crowd occupying the remainder of the tavern was gradually returning to the volume it had held before the the appearance of the knight. Anna quickly filled a pint and placed it before him. As she did so, she took in the sight of the ornate red and blue jeweled handle of the sword tied to the knight's belt and she thought fleetingly how expensive it was and how many enemies it had run through. In receipt of the beer, the knight reached into his mantle and brought out a coin pouch that was strung around his neck. He turned the pouch upside down and the counter was littered with silver coins of different shapes and sizes.
"Oh, no," Anna said, waving her hands in front of her. "That's too much, it's just a pint-" but her father was already sweeping the coins off the edge of the counter and landing them in his other palm. Before Anna could stop him, he had gathered up all of the money and scampered away, giddy.
"Sorry about him," Anna said, worried that her father's blatant greediness might be cause for trouble. Fortunately, the knight only shook his helmeted head, tucking the empty coin pouch back beneath his mantle. He then took two of his gloved fingers and pointed them straight down on the counter, then gestured behind him to the door and the storm raging outside.
Anna studied him curiously, not understanding. The knight tapped two of his fingers once more on the counter.
"Here?" Anna began teasing out the riddle, suddenly enthused by the game, no matter how frightening her playmate. He nodded and pointed to the stairs, then to the door to the kitchen beyond which her father had disappeared.
"You… you need a place to stay?" The knight nodded. "Here?" Another nod of affirmation, and then he was pointing at the kitchen once more. When Anna didn't get it, the knight pinched his thumb and forefinger together.
"That money pays for more than the beer!" Anna exclaimed, finally understanding. The knight slammed his open palm upon the counter, making Anna jump in alarm. The knight hadn't noticed that he had startled the girl, because he had reached up to open the bottom portion of his helmet so he could finally taste the beer that Anna had poured for him.
That was the first strange occurrence that Anna observed.
The chin that the knight had revealed was surprisingly small and completely smooth - not even the slightest hint of beard or stubble resided there. As for the lips (Anna only got a glance before the rim of the mug was upon them), they were rosy and full, nothing like the kind of lips a battle-hardened warrior should have.
The knight chugged the entire pint in one go, much like Anna had done earlier that evening, and it struck Anna how odd it really was that the knight had not seen to the removal of his helmet, not to mention the lack of conversation.
Within seconds, the empty mug was returned to the counter and the bottom part of the helmet was once more covering the strange mouth. Anna grabbed a dirty rag, and began cleaning a mug behind the counter, pretending that she had not just been staring down the knight shamelessly. She had started on a second mug when she heard another loud thump and she jerked her head up to see that the knight had once more hit his palm to the counter. Once he had her attention, he stood, still dripping from his excursion outside, and gestured toward the staircase.
"Oh! Yes, let me set you up in your bed," Anna said, throwing down the rag and hurrying around the counter.
That was when Anna observed the second strange occurrence.
The knight, though hefty and formidable, was only a few inches taller than Anna herself, and she had not known many men who could give claim to such a height.
Ignoring the suspicions that were creeping up on her, she led the knight up the stairs and into the door on the first landing - she knew it was vacant because her father had not had a lodger in months. Their only customers already lived nearby and if any of them did end up staying the night, they slept right at the tables until their wives came around in the morning to find them and scold them all the way home.
The small room contained two small straw beds at either corner, a stubby candle sitting in between them.
"It's all yours," Anna said, holding open the door for the knight to step through. "Well… goodnight then." The knight grunted his thanks and the door shut right in Anna's face as she quickly backed out of the room. Somewhat disgruntled, she headed back downstairs to find her father and begin to encourage the men to go home.
Hours later, the place had finally calmed to a respectable volume. A majority of the men had been ushered out and stumbled home through the snowstorm, and the ones remaining were fast asleep, snoring softly. The remains of the fire were glowing dimly, and a draft was starting to pick its way through the cracks in the wooden walls. Anna was fighting exhaustion as she meandered through the tavern, collecting mugs and pushing in stools. She emptied the last of the keg into two mugs and took them to the kitchen where she found her father sleeping soundly on the floor. She tended to leave him where he ended up, but she still liked to know that he was safe.
She grabbed the bowl of freshly-picked olives she had obtained from the market that morning, as well as a rough-hewn cloth that could serve as a blanket. With these supplies, she made her way upstairs. It was well past midnight but she could see light from a single flame flickering beyond the knight's door.
Overtaken by curiosity once again, she silently approached the door and listened for any sounds. She heard soft, measured breathing that indicated that the occupant was asleep. Not knowing what had exactly gotten into her, Anna gently unlatched the wooden door and pushed it open just wide enough for her lithe frame to slip inside. The small candle on the floor sent a dim light over the knight on the straw bed, and Anna's eyes were immediately fixed to the sight.
That was the third and final strange occurrence.
The knight had finally removed his helmet - he was sleeping on his side to face the wall, away from Anna. The long, braided hair that spilled over the top of the chainmail and pooled in silvery tangles onto the straw bed was the most beautiful sight Anna had ever beheld.
Entranced, Anna quietly set down the supplies in her arms and moved closer, kneeling beside the uniformed figure. She had barely extended a hand to touch the fine locks when a rough gauntlet grabbed her wrist and before Anna knew it, a blade was upon her throat, the knight having twisted in one swift motion to face her.
The knight was most definitely a woman. Blue eyes burned into Anna's and she watched as they shifted through an array of emotions - rage, pain, terror - and finally landed on bewilderment.
"What do you want?" she asked in an aggressively husky voice, not dropping the blade.
"Um, I- I brought-" Anna was beyond words, so she flicked her eyes over to the supplies she had deposited on the floor near the door, and back again. The blue eyes traced the path, and returned to meet Anna's once more. The grip on Anna was still not loosened.
"You know my secret," the woman said plainly.
"I won't tell a soul!" Anna squeaked, for the first time becoming more intrigued than frightened, despite the blade at her throat. "I promise!" The blue eyes were boring into Anna's, but they must have witnessed truth in them, as Anna was released a few seconds later, and they both backed away from each other. There was a silence as Anna watched the mysterious woman replace the dagger into the belt that was still looped around her waist.
"If anyone is let on, I will not hesitate to kill you," the woman warned, and Anna nodded vigorously. "Well?" she prompted when Anna did nothing. "What have you brought?" Anna started and scrambled over to retrieve the supplies.
"Olives," Anna said, handing the bowl over, "more beer," setting the mug down on the floor beside the bed, "and a blanket, it's cold."
The woman blinked at her, expressionless. "How much more is this going to cost me?"
"Nothing!" Anna said brightly, glad the woman hadn't outright rejected her offering. The woman stared for another moment before picking up an olive and popping it into her mouth.
"Thank you," she said around the food in her mouth and Anna's smile widened.
"You're welcome!" A pause. "I'm Anna, by the way."
The blue eyes glanced at her and away again. "Elsa."
"Where are you from, Elsa?" The woman choked on the sip of beer she had just taken. Wiping her mouth on her gauntlet, she said, "I don't really want to talk about myself."
This didn't deter Anna in the slightest. She presently launched into a complete history of her peasant ancestry, which had no importance, but the way she talked made one believe that it had been a line of powerful noblemen. By the time Anna was done, the olive bowl and Elsa's mug were completely empty, and the woman was leaning back against the wall, listening intently.
"That's about it!" Anna finished with a flourish. She noticed the empty bowl and giggled, saying, "You sure were hungry!"
"I don't get a lot of sustenance on the road. I often ride through the night, without pausing to rest."
Anna cocked her head to the side at this admittance. "Where are you in such a hurry to get to?"
"The wars. I'm riding all the way south and taking a ship to the east."
Anna waited for more information but Elsa didn't continue. "You're going to fight?" Elsa nodded. "But you're a woman!"
"What does that matter? I can do whatever I like." Anna felt concern ghosting over her. Concern? For a woman she had met mere hours ago.
"But… it's dangerous. You'll probably be killed."
"I don't care, I'm leaving in the morning and no one can stop me."
Anna was overcome with a senseless sadness.
"Won't someone miss you?"
"There's no one to miss me."
Anna wasn't sure why, but she suddenly felt such a strong attachment to the strange woman in this knight's uniform that she wanted to tell her that Anna would miss her - but what a ridiculous thing to say. The candle beside them had almost burned to the quick and the room was darker and colder than ever. "Well," Anna said, letting out a breath of concession, "I should go. It's late, you need sleep for your journey, and obviously nothing I can say will make you rethink your decision…" She was gathering her skirts when a delicate, slender, and distinctly ungloved hand stopped her from moving, coming to rest lightly on Anna's forearm.
"Wait…" Anna sat back down in an instant, seeing the look of doubt that had settled upon Elsa's face. Enigmatically, Anna was pleased for the interruption of her departure. "I…" Elsa struggled for words. "I haven't told you why I'm fighting."
"That's right," Anna said, settling back down to the floor, chin coming to rest upon a freckled fist. "Why are you fighting?"
"My brother is dead." Anna's heart sank. "He was a Templar Knight. He died in battle. This uniform is his. I'm avenging his death. He's all I had." The short, clipped sentences where all Anna needed to distinguish the pain and grief Elsa was trying to conceal.
"I'm so sorry," Anna said. At the same time, she was awed by the woman's strength and determination.
"It's not your fault - it's mine," Elsa said, turning away her face as the tears began to run down her cheeks. A shaky hand came up in an attempt to stem the flow.
"Oh, don't," Anna said, hurriedly crawling over the bed to sit against the wall with the knight who wasn't a knight and pulled the sobbing woman into a tight embrace. "Let it all go." Anna rocked Elsa like a child, the woman's fair head tucked beneath Anna's chin. She was not bothered in the least by the cold, damp chainmail and rough mantle that was settled against her. "It was not your fault," Anna murmured, not even knowing the details and circumstances of the brother's death.
They sat thus for an interminable amount of time until finally the blue eyes had dried and hardened. Elsa pulled away and slumped back against the wall and closed her eyes, resuming her independent demeanor. Anna, having none of that, tangled her fingers with those of the other woman and leaned to rest her head against the woman's shoulder.
"See?" Anna said, stifling a yawn. "Everything's going to be all right." Elsa hummed softly. "Please tell me you won't leave. That you won't fight."
Silence.
"Please?"
They sat quietly for a few minutes before the woman cracked open an eye to look upon the redhead. "Maybe." But Anna was already asleep, and soon Elsa too allowed herself to sink under, warmer tonight then she had been in months and would be for a long time after.
The next morning, Anna woke up horizontally on the straw bed with the blanket she had brought up carefully laid over her. She was alone - Elsa had gone. Anna was almost overcome with despair for the woman until she saw the lone olive standing upright in the bowl and the sight of it gave her hope.