An Apple A Day Chapter 4
Volunteer Work
(A/N: Ahh! I'm soooo sorry, this is freakishly late! Eep! I have excuses', homecoming weekend, my birthday, but I'm sure you don't want to hear them. Yeah, I don't really like this chapter too much, it was awkward to right, because I've never really been in the situation, and it's not really something you can ask people about. So anyway, here's my rather late chapter 4, enjoy! Disclaimer: Yeah, don't own it. Just wish I did.)
Ophelia's head hurt. She could feel the blood rushing to her brain. Tentatively opening her eyes, she looked around. Where was she? Certainly no place she'd been before. She was lying on a table in a small dark kitchen. The room was dominated by the hearth and a wooden cupboard that was painted light blue, the only other furniture in the cramped room where a few chairs. Managing to sit up, she got a better look at where she was. Turning, she could see a window that had been behind her, outside was the emerald greenery of the forest…was she in the forest family's hut? The family whom she had been sent to deliver apples too? Ophelia wondered, but before she could speculate more voices through the open door way of another room wafted into the kitchen and caught her attention, though she could only catch a few words.
"Tried …take advantage…reputation sullied...pig." she couldn't place the masculine voice that had uttered those words, though it was familiar. Ophelia let her mind drift back to what had happened. She shuttered. If Sir Tristan hadn't been there… during the whole ordeal she had been violently gripped with fear, she hadn't been able to move. Her insides had felt like they were being clenched with an iron fist. Thank the gods for Tristan…wait, Tristan! Yes, that was the owner of the voice she heard from the other room.
"I wonder why though?" Was that Uncle Denis? Either way the men from the conversation had drifted closer to the door.
"He was a deserter, I gather, no morals. Poor girl though, she didn't deserve that." That was Arthur, she imagined.
"No one does." Tristan definitely said that.
She saw a shadow fall in the doorway and a moment later the men, Tristan, her Uncle Denis, and Arthur, entered the room.
"Miss Ophelia, you've woken." Arthur said, looking kindly at her.
Ophelia looked towards the men and blushed, they knew what had happened. Would they punish her? She wandered. Often girls who had been …put in her position became outcasts, their reputations destroyed. No one wants what someone already had after all. Denis stepped forward, ready to hug her, but hung back after a moment, unsure if physical contact would be the best. Arthur smiled kindly, making his green eyes sparkle. "How are you feeling?"
Ophelia, nervous around the future king, muttered something about being fine, just somewhat shaken.
Nodding, Arthur said "Yes that's quite understandable."
Ophelia lowered her silver eyes, ready for a scolding, when no one spoke for a few awkward moments, as the uncomfortable silence descended upon them, Denis cleared his throat.
"Ophelia, dear I –"he stopped for a moment to collect himself, "I'm sorry, If I would have known…" he trailed off.
Her eyes snapped up, looking at her uncle. "So I'm not in trouble?" Her words met shocked silence.
"It wasn't your fault." Tristan said, from the back of the room, this exotic eyes resting on her. She chanced meeting his gaze, and was only able to hold it for a moment, before looking back at her small folded hands.
Arthur glanced at Tristan, and then spoke. "We should get back to the wall. I need to have this officially recorded by a scribe. Darius," Ophelia flinched at the name, her pretty face contorted with fear for a brief second, as the terror she had felt in the forest flooded through her. "Darius, though Roman was a deserter, so there's no need to inform Rome."
As everyone seemed to be in agreement that they should soon depart, Ophelia hopped off the waist high table she had been sitting on, a momentary wave of dizziness hitting her, causing her to nearly fall. A strong hand gripped her arm above the elbow, steadying her. She turned to see Tristan staring down at her with a completely unreadable expression on his handsome face. She blushed and muttered her thanks, he nodded in reply.
The ride home was a blur, because Denis only owned one horse, Tristan shared his ride with her. She vaguely remembered being picked up and set effortlessly onto his horse. She could almost recall the feeling of his well toned arm around her and the blurring of the forest as they galloped past. Unfortunately for her, the hideousness of the previous events kept playing over and over in her mind. She flushed violently, shamefully, recalling the feeling of that...Person's hands on her, and then blushed even more, although for a different reason, at the memory of Tristan's calloused, but gentle ands on her face. She was very glad he couldn't see her face at the moment.
She felt herself leaning back into Tristan's chest and falling into a stress induced, but blissful slumber enticed by the mix of forest scents and the smell of leather. Only much later that night would she wake in her own small bed, to find her window open, causing a cool breeze to ruffle her golden hair and dark hawk's feather to float down to her floor.
Tristan stood silently on the Wall's battlements, his wild hair whipped around by the breeze; his golden eyes watching the horizon for first light, after all that's when the real work would start. He sighed, why did that silly girl matter so much? He wasn't sure. Ophelia was clumsy and annoyingly timid around him, but still…; He whistled, calling his hawk to him. Tomorrow would be interesting, as he had offered to escort Ophelia around, making sure her extreme naiveté didn't land her in another precarious spot.
(Wow that took me about 5 hours to type, because it's my birthday, and I've been watching movies as I type. So yeah, I hope you like it)
(Plus she's been talking to me 3 ---Tori. Her beta reader.)