Salome watched Guinevere darky. 'Such a hypocrite' she thought to herself. Her mind flashed back to a short time before, where Guinevere would speak of the freedom she and her people were deprived of. Then Salome's mind flashed back to now, were Guinevere allowed a roman, the wife of the man that captured them to add to that, to bathe her. She didn't understand how Guinevere allowed it, such corrupted hands that went over her back with a cloth, but then again...Salome didn't understand a lot of things that either resided outside her boundary of woods, or little battlefield. She didn't understand the ways of others...how someone could resist the opportunity to feel someone at the end of their sword, and walk away without a victory. She didn't get their culture, she didn't get him.
She sat their half the night, just observing him from afar. She squinted to see him in the distance, and she tilted her head to the right in thought whenever he opened his mouth. What kind of words came out of that mouth? Were they vile and spiteful? She bet they were, after all, as she was taught, words do tell a lot about their beholder. She then put her head in and upright position, studying how he hid his eyes behind his dark hair. Why was this? Did he cover his black eyes on purpose? Or did the strands fall perfectly over his eyes by accident, and he just didn't bother to uncover them?
Despite her hate for him, she found his being interesting, and when she was deep in thought, it came as a suggestion, 'Why not spare him too? Let him live, do not perform your revenge on him'. She reasoned with herself. 'Well, if you were to spare him, you'd be just like him, a victory less fool. And besides, it's not just for you, it's for Arto. Yes, he would agree with you to do this.' And it became final. She was simply, going to kill him, and then finally end her own life. In her mind, she morbidly thought of the many ways to run her sword through him and how she was going to run the same sword through herself after. But, before she could actually pin down the way she was going to kill him and herself, she had to remind herself before she got to ahead. 'You need to speak to him first, find out why he spared you. Then, kill him afterwards'. After she reminded herself, the feeling of disappointment fell through her. She couldn't kill him that night, she couldn't take that opportunity, that may have been once in a lifetime, and it threw a blow at her gut, and she squirmed in frustration. 'Well, do you really need to know?' she thought...trying to find a reason to throw away the burden that stood between her, and her satisfaction. 'Yes...the explanation is needed' she finalized. She ended the deciding, and just began to sulk with the fact that it couldn't be done that night.
Exiting her daze and becoming reacquainted with the world around her, she noticed two feet peaking at her through the bottom of a dress, and when she looked up it was Guinevere, smiling warmly down at her. Despite Salome's mixed feelings for her long-time friend, she returned the smile.
"How are you holding up? The Scout told me you lost your voice, is it true?" Guinevere asked concerned as she kneeled down next to Salome and put her warm hand over her throat.
Salome nodded her head, not knowing the significance of the name, and pardoning Guinevere with sharp questioning looks.
"So you are ill then? Is it just your throat that bothers you?" Guinevere asked as she began to place her hand in random spots, trying to see if Salome's flesh would answer the question for her. "Your hot. Oh, you, prone to all the illnesses" Guinevere finished sympathetically, with her hand resting over Salome's forehead.
"Do you want to go home now?" Guinevere asked considerately, taking her hand off Salome's forehead and using it to push herself up into a crouched position as she was getting ready to rise.
Salome nodded her head eagerly, and began to rise herself until Guinevere pushed her back down.
"No, only one of us can go first, and it is to be me. I am brining Merlin here, and after Merlin is done speaking with Arthur, he'll take you home" Guinevere said in a whisper.
Salome looked at her questionably, letting Guinevere know, that she wanted more explanations.
"We can't both go now, it'll be suspicious." Guinevere said, intending for that to be the end of the conversation. But Salome stressed strongly, that she wanted to know more.
"Look, The Scout has he eyes on us right now as we speak. He's been looking over here the whole time, even before I came. He is very untrusting to our kind, so he is suspicious at everything" Guinevere finished, finally allowed to rise.
The reason for Salome's no need for more explanation, was because she became sidetracked. What Scout? Who was this scout? She looked from face to face, searching the faces, expecting for one to be staring back. But none. Nothing was peculiar except that maybe he was missing, but big deal. And when Salome was about to ask the question through her silent signals 'Who?', Guinevere already had her back to the camp, and was already departing swiftly to go fetch Merlin.
Salome turned, dumbfounded, still looking around with a confused expression. Who was staring at her? She spent the next few moments, scanning face to face, non stop, until, she found her eyes fluttering closed, drifting her into a sleep...
Salome woke up, two hours after her eyes shut, with a new found warmth around her. She drowsily looked down, and noticed a cloak around her. She straighten herself up quickly into a sitting position, and only became alarmed when she noticed a pair of boots, standing before her.
She clutched the snow with her hands, and she nailed her mouth shut as she clenched her jaws. Her eyes narrowed, and he took the invitation to speak.
"You looked cold" he said in a toneless manner.
But this didn't explain anything, it didn't explain why he thought he had the nerve to stand there, and in a fit of rage, Salome kicked the cloak off of her, and scooted back as far as she could, which was only an inch, since the tree gave her no leeway.
Tristan smirked, he figured she would do this. He picked up the cloak in the cold casual manner that drove Salome crazy.
"fine then, freeze" he simply stated, his voice seeming like he didn't give a damn if she did freeze.
He flung the cloak over his arm, and he stood there, arms crossed, looking down at her in a studious manner.
"You were trying to speak to me earlier. But, as earlier, it is evident that your voice has been lost. Has it returned yet?" Tristan asked gruffly. Even if he was intending to sound concerned, it would have certainly failed right when it entered in Salome's, cause all she was seeing was red, all she was hearing, was a irritating static sound.
Salome stood silent, and frozen, a million things running in her head to do, and not one being rational.
"Fine, I will assume it hasn't. I'm sure a feisty one, such as yourself, would of thrown out a lot of words by now" Tristan said in a cold tone.
In return to his idiotic comment, Salome decided to show him just how much the blood was running through her veins, in a manner that would not send him to the floor dead. So she scooped up the snow that was in her hand, and she threw it full force into his face.
Salome didn't intend to test his temper with her act, but she just wanted to show him her hatred. However, it winded up doing what she hadn't meant to do.
In one quick motion, before Salome could get herself out of his arms reach, he gripped her by the throat and pulled her up. He looked behind him, to see if anyone was watching, but they were all attending their own business. When he turned back, he faced her, who was wheezing for air, and found himself loosening his hold. She broke out into a series of gruff coughs that hurt her throat greatly, and she dropped to the ground from the force of the cough.
When she finally caught her breath, she looked up halfway, and saw him kneeling before her.
He didn't apologize, which was an act that Salome actually thought what he was doing.
"When you get your voice back, we will talk about that day" he said as he got back to his feet.
Salome crunched her eyebrows, and she wished that she could voice to him, that, that opportunity, may never come again, but before she could actually attempt to signal that to him, or miraculously tell him, Guinevere slid in from behind the tree.
"He's here to take you home, come now" she said as she helped Salome up. She didn't really focus on The Scout that was standing right next to them anymore, seeing that the commander was now aware that Merlin was there. There was no need for caution. When Salome was up to her feet, Tristan understood the worried look that Salome had just given him. "Another time will come" he said simply. Guinevere froze, not understanding, and not knowing whether it was for her or not. Guinevere was enlightened however, when Salome dismissed herself, by walking ahead. It must of been to her. Guinevere gave one uneasy look to Salome, and then Tristan, and was about to precede after Salome to bid her good-byes, but she was quickly called back.
"Here, give this to her" Tristan said in hardly a whisper, handing Guinevere the cloak.
Guinevere looked at it in surprise, then at him, nodding her head in dismissal. She scurried to Salome's side, throwing the cloak over her shoulders, catching Salome herself off guard. But, she accepted it, and she gave a expressionless glance back at him, who had his back to her as he made his way back to the center of camp.
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