DISCLAIMER: Everything recognised as being from the movie, King Arthur, doesn't belong to me. Everything else does. SO NO USING WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! Besides, I bet you guys could come up with something way better on your own.
Across The Mountains
Chapter VII
Galahad was worried. He could feel the Roman shivering through her cloak as she sat in front of him in the saddle, but that was not the only thing bothering him. This morning he had woken to a very strange sight. The girl – Aurelia, he corrected himself – had been huddling near the dying embers of that night's fire, wrapping fresh strips of cloth round her hands. He could see spots of red already soaking through the material. He had tried to ask her about it, but she had simply brushed his questions off, saying it was nothing important. And now she was starting to sneeze.
Aurelia was angry. And for once her anger was directed at no one else but herself. Memories of the day before had come rushing back as she woke that morning, memories of her panic during the Woad skirmish and her subsequent breakdown. Memories she wasn't proud of. Memories that filled her with an unexplainable rage the longer she laid staring up at the slowly lightening sky.
She had crept over the prone body of Gawain, narrowly avoiding his arm as he flopped over rather suddenly, muttering about tavern wenches and cows. Walking a slight distance from the camp, Aurelia had let her feet wander where they will, deeply immersed as she was in her thoughts.
What was she doing? She no longer knew. Aurelia had always thought herself strong, mentally if not physically. But now she questioned herself. Was she strong for defying her parents? Was she brave for having run away? Was she right in killing a man, even if it had been to save herself? And what right did she have to freedom if she could do nothing to save a friend?
With an anguished cry, her hand flew forth, striking the unyielding trunk of a nearby tree. Over and over, she struck the rough bark; seemingly unaware of the damage she was causing herself, of the blood that now ran freely down her fingers. Over and over. Harder and harder. She heard a loud crack but felt nothing. Stupid, selfish girl!
As Aurelia struck out again, a hand suddenly clamped around hers, slowly tightening its grip until she finally stopped struggling against it.
"What do you think you're doing?" an angry whisper sounded in her ear.
Her captor pushed her away from him roughly when he felt her grow slack in his arms, fairly certain that she wasn't about to go attacking another tree. Aurelia glared defiantly at him, as if daring him to judge her.
Tristan's look was unreadable as he stared back at her, both refusing to be the first to look away.
Now that she was no longer hitting the tree, Aurelia could feel the pain start to creep up her arms. It was as if she had placed her hands into scalding water. She noted as well the tears that had been running down her face, going unchecked until now. Aurelia made herself a promise then that this would be the last time she cried.
Finally the knight sighed, exasperatedly. He made to move towards her but the girl backed away, anticipating what he was about to do.
"I can walk just fine on my own," she snapped.
Tristan gave her a cool look but did not approach her again, turning instead to make his way back to their camp, not once bothering to check if she followed. Upon their return, Tristan retrieved first a wineskin from Bors' saddle and then what looked to be a clean tunic from Lancelot's saddlebags.
"Your hands," he said gruffly.
It did cross her mind to refuse his order, but the pain won out in the end.
Removing the stopper from the skin, Tristan emptied near half its contents over Aurelia's outstretched hands. The girl could have sworn she saw his lips twitch as she hissed at the burning sensation the liquid caused her open wounds. Whatever was in Bors' skins, it certainly was not water.
Aurelia couldn't help the quiet gasp that escaped her lips when the knight suddenly drew a knife that had been hidden on his person, holding it close to her face.
"Bite," he ordered, presenting her with the leather bound hilt of the weapon. At the confused look on her face he added, though not without a slight irritation in his voice, "Some of your fingers need to be reset. Unless you'd rather not use your hand again."
Looking down at her left hand, Aurelia realised that a few of her fingers were sticking out in an unnatural way.
"Oh."
"Bite," he said again.
Tristan had to admit; there was something admirable about the girl's stubbornness. She refused to make a sound as he pushed each finger back in place, though there was a moment where he thought she might faint when her eyes rolled to the back of her head. By the time the last finger was finally set, the Roman was breathing heavily.
Removing his knife from between her teeth, the knight cleaned its hilt on the sleeve of Lancelot's tunic and then proceeded to tear lengths of material from it.
"Here," he grunted, pushing the material into her hands. "Bind them tightly."
The scout gave her a strange look as she accepted the strips of cloth wordlessly. Casually tossing his knife in the air, Tristan watched as the girl made her way over to what remained of their fire, using her teeth to hold onto the makeshift bandages as she wrapped them round her hands.
"You know," he said, in a voice just loud enough for her to hear, "if it's just the pain you're after, there are easier ways."
Aurelia sent him a curious look and had to admit the shadow of a smile she saw on his face unnerved her. The knight held her gaze, seeming to be waiting for a reaction. But Aurelia was tired of the game.
Looking away, she returned her attention to tending to her wounds. When she looked up again mere moments later, he was already gone.
---
Galahad tightened his grip around the Roman's waist as she sneezed again. Letting go of his horse's reins momentarily, he reached round to wrap his cloak tightly around the girl, holding her closer against him, ignoring the suggestive gleam in Lancelot's eye as his fellow knight rode by them.
"You need to keep yourself warm."
"I'm fine," she said stubbornly but then added in a quieter tone. "But thank you."
Galahad smiled.
"So…Aurelia…what did you do to your hands?"
There was a long pause where Galahad thought the girl would ignore him and when she finally did speak, it was hard not to note the slight defensiveness in her voice.
"What makes you think I've done anything to them?"
The curly haired knight thought better of pressing the subject, realising that he would get nothing out of her unless she was willing to share and at that moment, she was not very willing.
"All right then, let's talk about something else. Why did you run away?"
When she remained silent, Galahad ploughed on, feeling the need for answers to some of the questions that had been forming in his mind since they were first assigned this mission.
"I mean, I suppose I understand the reluctance in marrying a man you've never met. But I would think that, him being a senator, most Roman girls your age would jump at the chance of such a match."
"Why don't you marry him then?" came the bitter retort.
Galahad chuckled.
"As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll have to say no."
"Well, there you go," said Aurelia as if that settled the matter.
They rode on in silence after that and for a moment, Galahad was convinced that the girl was angry with him. So it was with more than a little surprise when he heard her speak a long while later, addressing him as if there had never been a break in their conversation.
"If you had a choice in the matter, wouldn't you want to marry for the sake of love and not because you have to?"
Galahad looked down at the girl in front of him. So that's it, he thought.
"Some people can't afford the luxury of love."
"I suppose not," muttered the girl. She craned her neck, turning to rest her head against the knight's shoulder, and sighed a wistful sigh. "But that doesn't mean you have to stop dreaming about it."
Galahad smiled down at the Roman even though she couldn't see him. This was a side of Aurelia he had never seen and he had to admit, it made her all the more likeable; younger somehow, and for the first time he seemed to realise that she really was just barely a child still. It was easy to forget – not many people could hold their own against the Woads, not to mention their enigmatic and, in his own humble opinion, unnecessarily violent, scout; let alone other girls her own age. Galahad felt her relax back into him but as she did so, her shivering became more pronounced.
"Aurelia," he began but she cut him off.
"I'm fine, Galahad," she insisted. "It was just the wind. Caught me off guard."
The young knight felt his lips draw into a thin line, wanting to argue with her but knowing that she would be as stubborn as a mule. Her obstinacy really knew no bounds. The thought brought a reluctant grin to Galahad's features. No wonder Tristan seemed to constantly be irritated by her. They were both so hard headed that Galahad wondered if maybe their usually imperturbable scout just simply didn't know how to go about handling the girl. This thought greatly amused the knight.
"You're laughing at me," Aurelia said suddenly.
This startled Galahad.
"I can tell because you're practically shaking in silent laughter," explained the girl. "Is it so odd to think that I dream of a love match like any other girl?" she asked, amusement lacing her own voice.
"Honestly," admitted Galahad, deciding not to reveal the true source of his quiet mirth; it may not bode well for him if it were to get back Tristan. "I wouldn't have thought it of you." He laughed, out loud this time. "You're certainly not like any other girl I've ever met."
The knight could hear the smile in Aurelia's voice when she spoke next.
"I'll take that as a compliment, sir knight."
"As you should, my lady," replied Galahad with a smile of his own. It spread wider, almost into a mischievous grin when he spoke again. "So, the Lady Aurelia is secretly a romantic. Who would've thought?"
Aurelia laughed.
"Shh, don't tell anyone or I may have to kill you," she said teasingly in a mock whisper.
"And how would you go about accomplishing that?" he asked with an equally playful tone to his voice. "A poor, helpless lady such as yourself would certainly be no match against a great, and highly skilled, knight like me."
Aurelia snorted.
"O great knight," she said, forcing her voice lower so that it took on a more mystic quality to it, although Galahad could still hear the laughter behind her words. "There are other ways besides strength and steel to end a man's life. Foxglove, for example, can be very effective." And then as an afterthought, "Hellebore would do just as well."
Galahad fell silent for a moment.
"I do believe, Aurelia," he finally said after a while, "that you may be scarier than any Woad I've ever met. I suppose I should warn Tristan."
The girl laughed again.
"I don't think he would very much care. For as you said," and here she lowered her voice in a horrible imitation of Galahad's own, " 'A poor, helpless lady would certainly be no match against a great, highly skilled and pig-headed knight.'"
Galahad grinned.
"I'm beginning to understand why Lancelot derives such pleasure from your arguments with Tristan."
"Glad to be of service," said the girl and the knight was almost certain that she was smirking.
They were distracted then by a sudden raised voice from behind them.
"Well, aren't you two just getting along?" shouted Bors.
Galahad looked over his shoulder at his fellow brother at arms and realised that their laughter had attracted the attention of the other knights. Arthur and Lancelot, who were riding up front, had now turned slightly in their saddles to look back at them with matching smiles on their faces. Even Dagonet seemed to be smiling. The dark haired knight glanced around, shocking himself with the amount of relief he felt when he realised that Tristan was not amongst them.
"Care to share with us the joke?" called back Lancelot though Galahad could tell from the twinkle in his eye, discernable even from this distance, that the other knight knew fairly well the source of their amusement.
Just then a soft whimper caught his attention. Galahad felt Aurelia start to shake more violently. The frown that creased his commander's brow told him that the girl's shivers were more than slightly noticeable now. And then she started to cough.
Galahad reined his horse to a halt.
"Au – "
But the young Roman cut him off again.
"I'm fine!" she ground out. But the coughing fit that followed was not all that convincing.
"Yes, obviously," muttered Gawain but somehow Aurelia heard him for she cast him a rather black look.
"Dagonet," called Arthur as he rode up next to them, a silent order for the knight to check on the girl. Which was rather redundant Aurelia thought for the gentle giant was already by their side, a cold hand pressed against her burning forehead.
"A fever," said the knight, with a look on his face that Galahad didn't like.
Aurelia was confused. A fever? But she was freezing; a chill that touched her very bones. But Dagonet looked so grim, so serious. Well, at least a fever was curable.
"Elder," Aurelia bit out through stuttering teeth.
Dagonet nodded.
"Steeped in hot water for the fever. And maybe coltsfoot; for the cough." He turned to his commander. "We'll need a fire"
Lancelot cast his fellow knight a look.
"The Woads," he reminded them quietly but got off his horse anyway.
Arthur, having already dismounted, moved to help Aurelia out of the saddle but the girl stubbornly slipped off Galahad's horse on her own before he could. Her knees buckled slightly as her feet hit the ground but she managed to stable herself, her chin raised in defiance of her own weakness.
Lancelot chuckled.
Galahad rolled his eyes.
Arthur looked on in disapproval.
"Do you have to be so…" began Galahad, as he got of horse, faltering for words. "…you?"
"Of course," said Aurelia incorrigibly, as she made to follow Dagonet who was heading off into a denser part of the forest.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Aurelia turned in surprise; eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Arthur was looking at her, brows raised questioningly.
"My lady," the cavalry officer added belatedly. But it was already clear; Arthur was no longer politely requesting Aurelia's cooperation in matters. The girl's eyes narrowed.
"With Dagonet. We both recognise the herbs. The sooner they're collected, the sooner they can be brewed. And the sooner Lancelot can get his pretty little self back to Hadrian's Wall and stop worrying about the Woads."
Her words managed to draw a reluctant quirk of the lips from their commander. A muffled sound came from Gawain, sounding suspiciously like a smothered laugh. Bors, on the other hand, hadn't bothered to restrain himself at all. Lancelot protested.
"Please. Arthur. I implore you. For Lancelot's sake." The girl pushed out her bottom lip in an attempt of a pout.
Arthur sighed.
Lancelot scowled.
"Take Galahad with you," relented Arthur.
"Oh, Woads we can handle," muttered the disgruntled knight. "But give us a little girl and we cave immediately. Some great warriors we are."
"The lady Aurelia is right. The sooner we gather those herbs the sooner we can continue on," said Arthur to his trusted knight and friend, feeling, for some reason, obliged to explain himself.
Aurelia spared Lancelot a satisfied smirk before following the path Dagonet had taken. In truth, her exchange with Arthur had cost her a lot of energy and she would have liked nothing better than to stay exactly where she was at the moment. But she'd finally won her way and besides, she had always found identifying herbs a calming thing and calmness was something rare in her life these days.
"What are we looking for?"
Aurelia cast an exasperated look over her shoulder.
"Coltsfoot and elder."
"Is this it?"
The girl turned around to see Galahad holding up a lobed leaf. She stared at him incredulously.
"That's ivy. And you might want to put that down. Some ivy is toxic even to the touch."
Aurelia turned back around to examine a plant just as she heard Galahad give a startled cry and, it seemed, jump away from the ivy infested tree he was standing near. The girl chuckled softly to herself.
"You know, it'd be easier if you actually describe to me that plants we're looking for," came his annoyed voice.
"Well, the flowers of the coltsfoot plant resemble the dandelion but the petals are slightly more needle-like. Also, its leaves are shaped like a heart and its height is about the span of one foot."
"As for elder, it's a small tree. The leaves are poisonous but it's the flowers we're after. Its leaves are serrated – jagged," she explained before Galahad could ask. "Like teeth. And its flowers grow in large clusters. You'll like this plant." She looked up with a teasing smile on her lips. "Its berries can be brewed into a wine or brandy. Apparently it's very good."
"Are you speaking from experience?" asked the knight, brow arched questioningly.
Aurelia cast him a secretive smile but didn't answer. She was amused to note that after a while the knight had fallen silent; intently starting at every yellow flower or shrub he came across. She took the opportunity to slip away whilst he was distracted; not too far out of sight but enough to relieve the feeling of oppression she had been feeling.
Her thoughts drifted to her family as her feet took her further and further away from Galahad. She wondered how Lucius was. He did tend to do things without thinking when he was upset. But there was Furia. And Aurelia trusted her handmaid and friend to take care of her brother. As for her parents, the weeks spent in the unforgiving forests of Northern Britain had quelled the anger she had felt towards them.
I suppose they have their reasons.
"Reasons they don't want to tell me," she snorted miserably.
The wind seemed to pick up then. She frowned as she pulled her cloak tighter around herself, clenching her teeth against the cold. Time to head back then. Dagonet would have no doubt gathered the necessary herbs even if she and Galahad hadn't. But as she turned around, her frown deepened. The path she had thought she was on had suddenly seemed to disappear.
"Well," she sighed. "We are in trouble, aren't we?"
A sharp cry overhead caused her to jerk her head up; something she immediately regretted. She fought against the darkness that threatened her but it was a battle she was fast losing. As her vision swayed, the last thing she saw was a tiny black speck circling above her in the sky.
---
Tristan was scowling – the Woads were keeping suspiciously quiet and he had yet to kill a single man since morning. The only good thing about the entire day was the apple he was now eating, cutting off slices with a knife that was not his own.
Turning the blade over in his hands, the knight cast an eye over the curiously carved hilt. The workmanship was rough, almost as if a hand still too small to properly hold a knife had whittled the wood. He wondered briefly if the Roman brat had carved it. The blade itself had been kept ridiculously sharp for such a paltry little thing.
Tristan growled.
How the girl had caught him off guard with it, he'd never understand. The cut itself had been shallow and was more of an annoyance than anything else. It was his pride that had suffered the most.
Just then his horse whinnied.
"Woah, girl. Woah."
Tristan dug his knees deeper into his mare's side, grabbing at the reins that had been draped carelessly across his saddle, dropping the half-eaten apple in the process. A familiar screech drew his attention to the hawk circling above him. It swooped down every so often, crying loudly as it did so, but stayed circling over the same spot. Clearly the bird was agitated.
Tristan frowned.
"Come on, girl," he said quietly to his horse, coaxing it into a gentle trot. "Let's go see what's wrong."
The knight didn't have to go far before he saw his hawk perched atop a low tree branch, feathers ruffled. It screeched again. Tristan lifted his arm in a silent invitation to which the bird gladly accepted.
"What is it, huh? What's wrong?"
At his question, the hawk took flight again, landing on the same branch it had been on before. Resigned to the fact that he would learn no more whilst on his horse, Tristan dismounted and slowly approached the tree his feathered friend seemed to have such a sudden strong interest in. It was then that he noticed the bundle underneath the tree; a bundle that looked very, very familiar. Tristan swore.
Reaching down, the knight pushed away the tangled mess of dark hair to reveal a face that he recognised immediately.
"Stupid girl," he muttered bad-temperedly. "First she goes around hitting trees and then she goes collapsing under them." As he looked around, searching for something that obviously was not there, his irritation seemed to grow. "Where's that boy when you need him?"
The hawk screeched again.
"This? This is what you wanted me to find?"
He looked down at the unconscious bundle, for once not talking back at him.
"We could just leave her here," he said, more to himself than to the bird. A vicious smile formed at the thought.
This time the screech seemed almost indignant.
"All right! It was just a suggestion."
Picking her up, Tristan was not surprised to discover how light she was. No wonder she kept fainting – the silly wench – she obviously needed to eat more.
A shrill whistle was all the instruction his horse needed to follow him as he headed back in the direction he knew the rest of his comrades to be. Above him, the hawk screeched again. This time the cry sounded altogether complacent.
---
A/N:
I apologise for the long wait. After we moved it was almost 2 weeks before we got the net up (telephone people stubbornly refused to believe it was their fault that the line wasn't working and it turns out that it was. Hah!)
(edit: GOSH! This chapter has actually been ready for ages but I wasn't able to upload it because I couldn't access my stories and stats for some reason. But the good people at fanfic net fixed it. So…YAY!)
7 pages (not including this ridiculously long author's note)!!! This is without a doubt the longest chapter. Nothing else to say about it really, though, as with chapter 2, there's something about it I don't quite like.
What I want to talk about is the last chapter.
Firstly, xforgottenxmemoriesx posed the question, more of a statement actually, about how Lancelot knows how Tristan and Aurelia are going to fall in love. Easy – he doesn't. All he knows is that Tristan has interacted, adverse as it may be, more with Aurelia than he has with anyone else who wasn't one of the knights. He simply says, "The girl does seem to be doing our boy some good, doesn't she?"
Secondly, peachpaige pointed out that something seemed to be off about chapter 6. I think it may be what seemed to be a sudden personality change in Aurelia. Let me explain what was going through my head when I wrote that chapter. All the other chapters up until then, Aurelia has been strong; she killed a legionnaire, jumped another, faced the fearsome Sarmatian knights without quivering and battled, verbally, against our ever-loveable scout. But remember, she is just a young Roman noblewoman, who has lived a mostly sheltered life. And adrenaline can only take you so far before you crack and have a nervous breakdown. Chapter 6 was where she reached her breaking point.
Lastly – and I really liked this one; made me smile – chloedancer1015's question: So, is Servilius a serial killer or something? -dodgey eyes- Maybe…
Anyways, hope this extra long chapter makes up for the long wait.
Thanks to all who reviewed and all my new watchers. You guys are the best!!!!1!!11!
- Scribbles
