Disclaimer: Still own not a thing. sigh maybe one day.
A/N: THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed so far. It keeps giving me a lovely little thrill when I open my inbox and I have 'review alert' messages in there. :) Hope y'all like this chapter and keep reading.
Tigger-180: I forgot to reply to you in the last chapter, sorry bout that. I'm glad you don't think Percival is coming on too strong. And I just got your review for Chapter 6 grins I thought you'd like that bit!
JellyPup: He certainly is, he's such a bully!
Scruffybunny: I'm so glad you like Dinah. I really am trying to make her as real as possible. If you're reading on, in this chapter you'll see I've remedied the 'unknown' factor. you know, until I read your review I hadn't even thought about it. How lame am i? I had to sit down this afternoon and work out Dinah's entire heritage, and how old she is and all that stuff. So thank you! Enjoy this chapter.
ONWARD!
Dinah sighed as she unpicked the seam on yet another shirt. When would these men learn that their pathetic attempts to mend their clothes were pointless?
It was a relatively quiet day for laundry, as most had been done yesterday and the Roman soldiers had all had theirs washed over the past few days. In fact, it was only the Sarmatian's spare clothes that required cleaning. The brown shirt Dinah was currently working on belonged to Galahad and she knew this because she'd observed the horrendous mending when he was wearing it the other day.
She smiled when she thought of the knights, they had all become like family to each other. And she felt lucky to be included even in a small capacity.
At the thought of family a familiar ache swelled in her chest. Dinah had been born in the fortress, and had lived there for the duration of her twenty-one years. Her mother had been the tavern keeper, much like Vanora, and Dinah had spent the first years of her life practically living in the riotous place. She remembered her mother well; the woman had only died when she was thirteen, but had never really known her. Like most other children in the fortress, Dinah was the product of a one night fling between a warrior and a wench. As a result she had absolutely no idea who her father was.
When she had been old enough to be useful, she'd been put to work with the other seamstresses. After that she hardly saw her mother except on the brief occasions when they slept in the same room.
Marius had come into her life when she was ten years old; four years after the young Sarmatians arrived at the wall.
Flashback
She had been walking past the infirmary when he'd caught he arm and yanked her into the room.
"You girl, help me a moment."
Dinah could only nod as Marius led her over to where a young man was sitting on the bench. He couldn't have been more than sixteen at the time and his left sleeve had been ripped away to reveal a deep, jagged wound that split the skin almost to the bone. The healer knelt down to face the young girl.
"Now girl, I need you to take this man's hand and let him squeeze while I stitch his arm. You try to take his mind from the pain, can you do that?" He paused as she nodded mutely, "Good girl."
Dinah sat down next to the boy and shyly took his hand in hers. She looked up into a pair of deep brown eyes that sparkled through a mess of dark curly hair. But the amused expression faded as Marius began the operation, and Dinah felt his much larger hand tighten on hers. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she put her other hand over his and patted it gently.
Realising he must be hurting her; the boy gritted his teeth and loosened his grip.
"What..." he took a sharp breath as Marius completed another stitch, "What is your name?"
"Dinah."
"That's a pretty name." He closed his eyes and swallowed before continuing, "I'm Lancelot."
He opened his eyes again and smiled at the little girl sitting in front of him. "And you have very blue eyes for such a little girl."
Dinah blushed, not really sure what to say. She'd never had any interaction with men; she was still too young to attract attention.
"Don't be shy; you don't need to be afraid of me."
In a small voice Dinah replied, "Mother says I shouldn't talk to men until I'm old enough to say no."
Lancelot gave a chuckle which turned into a groan, Marius wasn't finished yet.
"Don't worry small one, I'll keep your secret safe." He smiled down at her again, "And I don't count as a man here, even though at home I might already have a wife and children."
At her puzzled look he shook his head, "I'll tell you when you're older."
Finally Marius was finished, after biting off the thread he smoothed some salve on the wound and bound it with a linen bandage.
"There you are Lancelot, good as new."
The man thanked the healer and then knelt down to face Dinah.
"Thank you blue eyes, I won't forget your face."
Then he leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the forehead and was gone.
End flashback
Dinah smiled wryly as she remembered what he'd said to her. Well that had been a lie. The girl she'd been had imagined great things from the little exchange and her daydreams portrayed the young Lancelot sweeping her into his arms with her as the only woman for him. Of course, these dreams had all died a few months after the event. Dinah had been on her way from the tavern to her rooms when she had come across two people in a passionate embrace. As she passed, the lamplight illuminated the man's face and she had stopped in shock, rooted to the spot. After a few moments Lancelot had looked up and noticed her, but instead of the smiling man she'd thought of almost every day, he had told her in no uncertain terms to disappear. But that wasn't what had hurt so badly. No, it was the fact that her hero did not even recognise her.
After that Dinah had vowed to have nothing more to do with Lancelot, or any similar men, and had been very careful to follow her mother's advice.
Sighing to clear the memories, Dinah finished off the seam and added Galahad's tunic to the pile of mended clothes. At least her share of the mending was over for the day. She picked up the pile and headed out to the barracks. The sooner she delivered the clothes, the sooner she could get to the armoury and continue her studies.
She slipped into the cool building where the knight's quarters were and set the pile of clothes down on a chair in the hallway. Lined on the wall were ten long staffs, each with a horses head insignia on the top. Dinah gazed up at the ferocious face of the horse and couldn't help but wonder what battle was like.
She heard footsteps approaching, but didn't look around until she heard the voice.
"Impressive, aren't they."
Dinah shrugged. "Frightening is more appropriate."
Lancelot reached out to run his fingers along the smooth wood. "That is the point."
Dinah made a non committal sound and turned her back on the knight, hoping to slip away. Not so lucky.
"Hey," he caught her arm, "where are you going?"
"Out of here."
"I realise that, I'm not a complete fool you know."
"Ha!" Dinah threw back at him as she tried to shrug her arm free, "sometimes I wonder."
Lancelot's face softened into a smile as he refused to let her escape, drawing her closer.
"You really should learn to control that temper of yours."
"I don't usually have to," she ducked under his arm and tried again to tug hers free, "You seem to bring out the worst in me."
"Ah ah. You won't escape that easily." Lancelot grabbed her around the waist and spun her around to face him.
Dinah braced her hands again the leather jerkin that encased his chest and leaned back as far as she could, putting as much distance between them as possible.
"That's better; I prefer it when you can't struggle."
"Why don't you just let me go?"
"Because I enjoy your company, and you could enjoy mine a lot more if you were wearing slightly less clothes." He began to lower his face to hers.
The slap took him completely by surprise, and Dinah used this to push herself out of his arms.
"What part of 'no' do you not understand?" she demanded breathlessly, "If that's all you want, find it in the arms of one of your petty admirers and leave me alone!"
The last part came out more desperately than she had intended. She made a disgusted sound and turned to leave when the knight's soft voice stopped her.
"Dinah, don't go."
She turned to face him, "Give me one good reason why not?"
Please, she prayed, don't be a gentleman now.
"I'm sorry."
Dinah took a deep breath in, and then let it out.
"I accept your apology."
Then she left the room.
She didn't get far though. Lancelot fell into step beside her about five seconds after she left the building. When she threw him a dirty look he shrugged.
"Well if you won't tell me where you're going I'm just going to have to follow you to find out."
In exasperation Dinah threw her hands in the air, "Fine, suit yourself."
He grinned." I usually do."
They walked in silence for several minutes.
"How is the colder weather suiting you?"
Dinah shrugged, "It comes every year, I'll survive."
"Fair enough."
There was another moment of silence, before Lancelot tried again.
"How long have you been here at the wall?"
"Twenty-one years."
"More than me then. I've been here fourteen years, three months and twelve days."
Dinah sighed, and put him out of his misery by conversing. "I remember when you arrived. You and the Knights."
"Really?" Lancelot looked surprised, and she nodded.
"Yes, really. My mother took me to the gates when you all arrived and told me you were from Sarmatia." She made a dismissive gesture, "Of course, I was just a little girl then."
"I was eleven when I was taken from my family." Lancelot's voice had taken on a hard edge she'd never heard before, "And I had turned twelve by the time I got here. By now my family will be long gone from where I left them."
Not really knowing what to say, Dinah could only mumble, "I'm sorry."
Shaking himself, Lancelot lapsed back into his usual self and smiled at her. "Don't be. It was nothing to do with you."
They walked in silence again, and suddenly Lancelot looked around.
"Where were you going?"
"Here." Dinah gestured towards the arena, where Dagonet stood watching Garrett put his horse Bedwin through his paces.
"My my," Lancelot's voice sounded silky smooth, "you are full of surprises my lady."
Dinah suppressed a shiver and didn't answer, choosing instead to greet Dagonet, who had spotted them arriving.
Several hours later, Dinah dropped her head into her hands with a groan. "It's hopeless Dagonet. I'll never remember all this stuff."
"Nonsense," the knight chided her, "you just need practice. Again."
After another heartfelt groan Dinah looked up at the wall of weapons.
"Long sword, slices or stabs."
"Good, pick another."
"Spear, gores or can be thrown."
"Good. Another."
"Longbow arrows, graze or puncture."
"Another."
"Crossbow...er..." She looked to Dagonet for a hint, but he just smiled. "...pierces armour?"
"Good!"
"Can we stop now? I've been here for hours Dagonet." When he smiled evilly she started pleading, "Please? Please?"
He laughed, "Oh alright. But we'll continue tomorrow."
"It's a deal."
As they emerged from the armoury Dinah noticed that another horse and rider had joined Bedwin and Garrett in the arena. Lancelot was guiding Bleiddig in figure-of-eights in both trot and canter.
Though she hated to admit it, Dinah couldn't help but notice how well they looked together. Bleiddig seemed like an extension of the knight's body, they moved as one entity. In fact, there was so little evidence of steering on Lancelot's part that she wouldn't have been surprised if the horse could read his master's voice.
Leaving him to concentrate, Dinah joined Dagonet as they walked towards the main fortress area and the big knight quizzed her on weaponry the entire way back.
Later outside the tavern, Dinah took a deep breath and tugged at the hem of her tunic. Why was she doing this again? Taking another deep breath in she clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking and stepped inside. The noise hit her immediately and she glanced around, praying that Vanora would be behind the bar. Someone up there was smiling on her, because Vanora was behind the bar, and beckoned to her.
"Dinah, what brings you here?"
"Actually," Dinah smiled, "I came for a drink."
"Well we've got drink a-plenty that's for sure. What can I get you?"
"She'll have wine, and plenty of it." A voice cut in, and Dinah turned as Gawain placed his hand on her back. "That is if it's favourable to the lady?"
"For shame Gawain, how is she supposed to refuse now?" Vanora made a show of scolding the knight, but she winked at Dinah.
"Exactly. What if I'd rather have ale? What then?"
Gawain looked slightly taken aback "If you'd really rather..."
Both Dinah and Vanora burst out laughing and Dinah patted the knight's shoulder. "It's okay, wine is fine."
After she'd got her drink, she let Gawain steer her to the table where himself, Bors and Garrett were sitting. Bors had Eleven cradled in one arm and a large tankard of ale in the other.
As she sat down next to the burly warrior, Dinah waggled her fingers at the baby, who gurgled happily. Bors paused in talking to Garrett and remarked,
"Lovely, ain't she? All Bors." He grinned at his child, who waved her arms at her father.
"She's a darling, that's for sure." Dinah had to agree. Then she had to ask, "Where is everyone?"
"Arthur and Lancelot are holed up at the Round Table having one of their arguments." Gawain said in a bored voice, "Galahad should be along soon, he and Percival had patrol this afternoon. As for the rest of the lazy buggers, I have no idea."
"Well, know one ever knows where Tristan is do they?" Garrett commented, raising his flagon of ale to his mouth.
"That is the idea." A soft voice cut in as Tristan reached past Garrett to grab a mug. The younger knight spat out the mouthful he'd been about to swallow.
"Gods Tristan! Can't you cough or something?"
The scout took a slow swallow of ale and then his mouth curved into a small smile.
"No." He paused before saying, "Galahad and Percival have returned. Derfel is with his mistress and Dagonet." He looked at the door. "Is here."
"Sometimes scout, I don't want to know how you know everything." Gawain grumbled, taking a deep draught of ale. Tristan just smiled and turned his gaze to Dinah. He saluted her with his mug, drained it and then sauntered off to the bar to get another. Garrett stood up and stalked after him. Meanwhile Bors, on spotting his large friend, had leapt to his feet and promptly dumped Eleven in Dinah's arms before yelling.
"Dagonet! 'Bout bloody time you got yourself down here."
Dinah adjusted the baby in her arms so that it was more comfortable, and then noticed Gawain looking at her oddly.
"What?"
"Nothing," he waved his hand dismissively, "Nothing at all."
Dinah frowned, "No, it's something. Tell me."
"It's just; I can't help but wonder why you haven't settled down with someone by now."
"Ugh," Dinah made a disgusted sound, "why do I have to have a man to make me happy? Don't you think I'm happy as I am?"
Gawain looked at her. "Not particularly, no. I'll bet you'd love to have children and a family of your own."
Not able to speak, Dinah looked down at the baby and jostled her, making the infant gurgle happily. Then she said quietly.
"I would. But now is not the time, nor the place. I am content to wait another few years for that."
Gawain smiled softly at her and then grinned, "Well Dinah, you know you could always take up with me. A few more years and we could be back in Sarmatia, with seven children and five horses."
She laughed as he scooted closer, putting an arm around her shoulders.
"Just picture the scene. We'd be living in tents of course, and you'd have to cook." He waggled his eyebrows, "And I imagine after seven children your hair would be quite grey, and we would probably have to have two horses to carry you...ow!"
Dinah hit him on the chest with her free hand, and Eleven giggled.
"You see," Gawain gave her shoulder a squeeze, "it's almost as though we're married already."
"What a touching display." A dry voice cut in. And Dinah didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.
So who is it? You'll have to wait to find out in Chapter 8. Also, I'm thinking of changing the lame title. I mainly just put it there cos it was the only thing I could think of. Any suggestions?
Comments, ideas and encouragement are warmly received, clicky clicky on the review button:)
