Konichiwa! Any guesses on this unique, island language? Well, here it is folks, the moment you have all been waiting for. Now, without further ado, 2FondofBooks proudly presents the 10th installment of Always A Way…Chapter 9!
Melissa darted into the trees surrounding her village; glad it was morning and pleased with the fresh scent of the earth, the dew on the grass, the shading of the trees as they shook with laughter at the tickles of sunlight breaking through. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes, long dark lashes shuttering them. She needed this. She needed this moment to just be. Here, there were no dreams, no deadlines, no hunger, no work. Just freedom and fresh air and opportunity. As she continued moving silently through the wood, she smiled at the success of this morning. She had woken while the day was still dark, not that she had slept much last night, and had slipped out the door, grabbing her bow and arrow, hunting knives, and sword, not even waking Gwaine. She shuddered involuntarily at the memory of last night. As soon as the fabric of the jacket touched her, she recognized it, and all became clear to her. She suddenly knew where she had seen the stranger before, as she remembered being the unusual wear of the weather-softened jacket from when it had bumped her before. So, he was just another customer, another vile, hideous man. She scoffed, thinking about how predictable they were. All except her brother. She smiled at the thought of Merlin. Even though he could be annoying and not always very quick, he was sweet, caring. She was proud to know that her brother was much better than Gwaine. He would never go near such a place. Melissa grew dark once more as she thought on that. It wasn't as though she wanted to be anywhere near those places, but she had to. For him. For her mother. For everyone because no one else did. No one else would. Melissa felt a hot tear forming at the corner of her eye, but pushed it back just in time. It was no use. Tears wouldn't do anybody any good. Tears didn't bring money home, tears didn't feed her family.
Crunch.
A snap of a stick over dry leaves brought Melissa from her self-pity. It had been a heavy step, most likely an armored man with in sturdy boots by the deepened sound. Melissa trained her already heightened hearing in the direction of the noise. Sturdy boots meant someone with wealth. Why would someone with that much money wander into her small woods? If someone was wealthy enough to take that extensive of a hunting trip, they needed to do something more with their time. A familiar tightness rose in her as she thought of aristocrats, noble men prancing through the woods, killing and wasting perfectly good meat for their own games. She had always hated nobles, all except for one. She quickly pushed the memory of him from her mind, focusing instead on the dilemma before her. Ever since a witch had made an appearance at her son's execution in Camelot, the king, already notorious for his ridiculous laws, had banned women from carrying weapons. His justification had been that if they were emotionally unstable enough to challenge him so publically, no one would be safe if such fragile, unbalanced creatures armed themselves. Not that the law had affected many, most women were not fond of weaponry in the first place, but it had angered Melissa. Technically, she lived in Cenred's kingdom, but the land was so often disputed that she would be considered a subject of Camelot if she was ever caught.
A flash of tan fur reminded her of her original reason for coming to the forest, food. She needed to find something for them to eat, even if how she was going about doing it was slightly illegal. She saw the tan again, this time pausing between a gap in the greenery. It wasn't a perfect shot, but she could make it work. Silently drawing her bow, she prepared to fire. A breath away from release, the deer turned around. Blonde hair and blue eyes locked with hers as the arrow flew, barely missing the man's ear. Melissa was relieved her shock at seeing the man had caused her shot miss, since she did not want to deal with a murder at the moment.
She froze where she was, quickly assessing the man she had almost shot. His face was one of absolute shock, and she watched his red cloak flap over the chainmail of and crest of which he was obviously a knight. She recognized the crest and color of the cloak instantly. Camelot had finally caught up with her.
