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Chapter 9: De nouvelles habitudes

' This is becoming ridiculous' thought a very frustrated Ranya as she sat on her bed, momentarily reclaiming her mind from the wandering thoughts often cause by boredom. She had been staring out the window for what had seemed most of the morning to her. Arthur and Lugaid had both told her to rest, but she could not stand it any longer. She had been at the fort for nearly twelve days, and although her leg still caused her some discomfort, she still felt her time was being wasted by not doing anything.

Her hands, however, were different matter. The harsh cold of the season caused her fingers to become stiff and swollen. Ranya believed that her state of uselessness was not helping things.

She arose from her bed towards the window. Her eyes fell upon the main pass, where she could see many roman soldiers patrolling the wall. She had been a frequent guest upon the pass during the last few days. She was still greatly surprised at her own eagerness to go every morning, and even more confused. The simple, singular reason for her daily outings was to see if Tristan would arrive that day. She did not know exactly why she felt so compelled to go, for the chances of him arriving while she was watching were very slim. But she was worried. She could not deny that. She knew he had been gone longer than expected. Then again, she also knew he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Though his fighting had surely been subdued that last knight at Gallus' fort, it had been enough to display his skills.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of men shouting and laughing loudly. Looking out the window to where the sounds were coming from, Ranya could distinguish three men inside an enclosure, which she knew to be the practice grounds. One look at a dark haired man wielding two swords was enough to tell her Lancelot and a few of the other knights were down there.

Having nothing to do, Ranya decided to pay the dueling men a visit.

" Lady Ranya, I see you have finally come to feast your eyes upon my masculine prowess!" Lancelot exclaimed, dodging a mock blow to the shoulder by Gawain's fist.

" Masculine prowess! Lancelot, from what I hear, your prowess anything but masculine!" retorted Gawain, laughing with Galahad who had come over to lean on the fence near Ranya.

This made Lancelot glare at Gawain suspiciously, who was slowly backing away, as though protecting himself from what would surely follow his next statement.

" Oh come now Lancelot! There is nothing to be ashamed of! I'm sure it happens to the best of us, doesn't it Galahad?" he said, trying very hard to keep a straight face.

" Oh, I will take no part in this Gawain!" said Galahad with a smile. He leaned over the fence towards Ranya, " I am afraid to admit this is not a rarity here at the training grounds. I suppose it is part of our ability to stay sane," he whispered with a smile.

" Well, men will be men," said Ranya.

" Gawain, if you don't bloody tell me what you are on about, I-!

" Lancelot" Gawain interrupted in a placating tone, as though he was conversing with a child " it's not you fault. You have the right to be angry. I mean, I would be as well if I could not bring myself to stand…at attention" he finished, with a wink and salute in Lancelot's direction.

Galahad guffawed and Ranya brought her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Lancelot's face cascaded from confusion to pure fury as his eyes bulged with shock.

Then, in the fashion of a true and noble knight, whose honor is only surpassed by his loyalty, he charged like the boy who still lived inside him.

" So, Lady Ranya, what brings you here on such an afternoon?" asked Galahad, as the two knights were presently tangled in a mass of dirt on the ground. Ranya was still smiling.

" I am afraid to say I was becoming restless. There is only so much one can take where rest is concerned".

" I understand. And what were you hoping to find here?" he asked with a smile.

She thought for a moment. " A distraction, perhaps" she said, grinning.

" And a distraction you have found, my Lady, for it is always amusing to see Lancelot being pinned to the ground", said Gawain who had wandered over, followed by Lancelot. Both were absolutely filthy.

" Ha! Gawain, only you and your deluded mind could conjure up such an absurd lie. Never have I been had by you in a fight. I had you pinned to the ground!" said Lancelot, whose jesting face told Ranya he was not really mad at Gawain.

" As you can see, our brave knights know where their priorities lie", said Galahad.

" Look at him, trying to woo our dear maiden with his maturity. How swiftly they grow, hmm Gawain?" said Lancelot. Galahad, now red in the face and having mumbled some incoherent sentence from which Ranya only discerned the words " unfair" and " had plenty of women" made an attempt to change the subject.

" I think we should get the damaged arrows to Niall, now. Don't want to keep him waiting," he said, walking to the other side of the paddock, followed by a chuckling Gawain.

" How are you feeling, Ranya?" asked Lancelot.

" Oh, much better. Tis a bit cold in your land, though" she said, wrapping the brown cloak Vanora had lent her more tightly around herself.

" Oh, well, we have gotten used to it. The weather here is much like Sarmatia's. Does it not get cold in your country, then?" he asked.

" Only at night, but the fires are well managed" she said. A sudden image displayed itself in her mind. The night was as dark as she'd ever seen it, and she was surrounded by people from her tribe, all dancing around the huge fire. One of the young women was to be married, and her union to the man she loved was being celebrated. Ranya never forgot that night, when the desert came alive. A familiar ache weighed upon her heart at this thought. Four years, and still the pain consumed her. In her cell, she had found ways of driving such pain from her mind, because she had many things to worry about, such as her survival. But now…now she had only time. Time to dwell on the past, on the numb realization that she would never see her family again, no matter what Arthur had said.

" Ranya, I am sorry for everything you have been through. No woman should ever have to go through such an ordeal," Lancelot said, placing a hand on her shoulder. He had seen her face when she spoke of her homeland. She was still in great pain, and would be for a long time.

She looked up at him, her eyes fixed upon his face.

" Then, I am sorry for you as well" she said.

" For me? Why?" he asked, confusedly.

" You were taken from your country as well. You are forced to fight and kill for others, are you not?" she asked.

" Well, yes, but that is different-

" Because you are a man" she finished, matter-of-factly. " Lancelot, freedom surpasses gender. It is inherent to our existence. My father told me that when I was a child, and now, more than ever, I believe it."

Lancelot stared at this young woman, with her stance unyielding and her gaze unrelenting, and he knew, in that instance, how she had come to survive all these years.

" You speak wisely, my Lady", he said, with a nod.

" Alright, this should be the lot of them. Lancelot, you should bring the spear to the smithy's as well." Said Gawain, who now held quite a few quivers full of arrows, as did Galahad.

At this, Ranya's head snapped up. The smithy. As in, a blacksmith's shop. Where there are tools. Thoughts were quickly flying through her mind. So many possibilities!

" Um…would you mind if I accompanied you? To the shop, I mean" she said looking to the three of them. When a few eyebrows rose, she added " It's only that I come from a family of craftsmen and I was practically raised in a smithy. I would love to see yours".

" Alright, I don't see why not," said Lancelot as the lot of them made their way. Ranya positively beamed.

" Niall!" screamed Gawain as they entered the shop. It was quite large and it's stone walls made it seem colder. Of course, Ranya knew it would not be so cold if the fires were alight. She could see the different size anvils placed near the two large furnaces. There was a table with metal working tools covering its entire surface and various weapons were hung on the wall. The forge tools lay abandoned on the floor near one of the furnaces and dozens of different sized tongs littered another worktable. Ranya could not believe it. She looked around the room in wonder, taking everything in. 'And it's not even being used!' she thought.

" Hmm, that's odd. He should be here." Said Lancelot, taking some of the quivers from Gawain's arms and placing them on the worktable.

" Perhaps he is working on the locks in the kitchen stores. I heard Vanora say some young ones had damaged them for late night feedings" suggested Galahad.

" Ha! He's probably still asleep. I tell you, the man isn't fit for this anymore" said Gawain.

Ranya, who had been inspecting a chipped blade, looked up questioningly.

" Is he ill?" she asked.

" Surprisingly, no. You see, Niall is getting on in years, and he hasn't the form he once possessed." Lancelot answered. Ranya nodded in understanding. " Not to say that he is not skilled in his craft, on the contrary. You should see the swords he has crafted. Beautiful weaponry. We can mend our own mail, of course and things of the sort. But there are certain things, like swords, and hammers, and axes-

" And armor", cut in Ranya.

" Yes, and armor, that need a craftsman's attention." He finished.

As the knights cleared the table away and talked about the reparations that needed to be made to their various weapons, Ranya's mind was spiraling with ideas. Well, rather one big idea that would need some convincing parlance on her part and some understanding on Arthur's.

" I think I will go back to my room now, I just remembered I was going to help Vanora with her…er…sewing. Thank you very much for the lovely afternoon." She said, bowing her head.

" You are very welcome. I trust we did not frighten you with our male foolishness." Said Gawain with a smile.

" Sir knights, I was raised among men. It would take a lifetime for you to achieve such a feat" she said with a grin, then leaving the room.

" Interesting woman, that one" said Lancelot, nodding towards the door.

" How do you think she is faring, now that she is here?" asked Galahad.

" Well, she certainly puts on a brave face, but who knows what is hiding behind such a mask. Especially after such an experience" said Lancelot.

" Remind you of anyone?" remarked Gawain, with a raised eyebrow.

" Yes well, at least she does not crave spilt blood," said Galahad.

Lancelot sighed. Of all the knights, Galahad was the one who the least accepting of Tristan's ways. The others found this to be natural, seeing as how he was the youngest, and although he denied it, the most innocent. Unbeknownst to him, this was a quality the other men envied. They had seen too much now.

" Galahad, we will never really know what happened to Tristan that night. Only scars tell us the truth of what happened. How he chooses to dispense himself of those horrors is his business." He thought for a moment. " As long as he takes it out on the enemy" he added for good measure, which made Gawain chuckle.

" Arthur, please, I beg of you, let me do this", Ranya pleaded.

After leaving the smithy, Ranya had gone directly to Arthur's quarters, requesting to have an audience with him.

She began explaining her request, which was quite simple really: if he would allow it, she would help the old blacksmith, Niall, with his work and hence repair the various weapons and armor that needed it. At least, she thought it simple enough.

" Ranya, I am sorry. I cannot simply allow you to do this. You are still healing, and this craft is a difficult one to practice" he said, looking at her with an apologetic face. She stood up and began pacing the floor of the grand room where the round table was located. Arthur had been reading reports when she had entered.

" I know this, Arthur. But I have been well trained in it. And you could use the help; I saw the pile of weapons in the armory. I could restore them for you and your men, and do it well… I ask for nothing in return. If you choose it, you have no obligation of payment" she said, sitting back down again, her eyes wide in anticipation of his decision.

He thought a moment, looking at this foreign woman who was essentially asking him to make her a slave…again.

" Why, Lady? To what purpose would this be?" he asked, his curiosity taking over.

" Why? Because I am not used to all this resting and doing nothing. I had more to do in my cell! Arthur, all my life, I have been taught to put my body and mind to use, for that is why I was given life. By Manât, I cannot sit idle and do nothing! Please, give me this one thing, so that I may remember the teachings of my people. If not my old life, at least I would have this," she said, her voice trailing to a softness that touched Arthur. He finally understood. This would be an escape for her. A way to keep herself busy and prevent her thoughts from wandering into her dark past.

The silence that had been making Ranya more and more agitated was suddenly broken.

" Alright. I will speak with Niall," he said with sigh. He had to admire her persistence. " But you will receive payment, that goes without contest"

Ranya exhaled loudly with relief. " Oh! Thank you Arthur. I promise, you will not regret this," she said excitedly. This was the most animated Arthur had seen her, and he had to admit, it did wonders for her. He had a quick glimpse of the girl that once was.

" Her? Work with me? Here?" Niall asked, disbelievingly as he stared at the young girl currently standing in his shop.

" Yes, her people are quite skilled in the craft, as you would of course know. She is no different" Arthur said, diplomatically.

Of course Niall knew this, he had seen traders and foreigners pass through the lands over the years, selling scabbards and curved swords. He had always admired their work, as is the custom from one talented craftsman to another.

He eyed her warily, assessing her in the way a blacksmith would. She was rather short, but then again, so was the norm for most women. Good shoulders, her forearms seemed steady enough.

" Show me your hands," he demanded. She immediately responded.

"Hmmhmm…" good-sized hands, for her build of course. She would be very skilled at the detailed work (which he found to be terribly tedious and painful work now that his joints were shot to hell) for they were rather small. But then again, so was the norm for most women- 'Am I truly considering this?' he asked himself. A woman blacksmith. Well, now he'd seen it all.

" Well, I suppose I could take her on as an apprentice, BUT she'll have to start small. I don't know what she can do yet, and quite frankly I'm a bit terrified that this entire scheme will become the cause of my death" he said, rubbing his chin with his knuckles.

Arthur merely grinned.

" Niall, I assure you, death will not be a feasible option here," he said.

" Hmph…well, I'll tell you this" at this he turned to Ranya, finger pointed and at the ready " I will not stand for any womanly emotions in this shop. This is man's smithy, and will remain so until the day of my- suddenly imminent- death" he said, seriously. It took every ounce of energy for Ranya not to laugh, especially sine the proximity of his face allowed her to see him go slightly cross eyed as he tried to ignore his offending finger and focus on her.

" Yes, sir" she said.

" Right, well, we'll being tonight. I've got a few of the stable lads bringin' in a load of coal, so be here by sundown," he said sternly. " And don't be late" he added.

As Ranya left the shop, she felt truly content. So much had happened in the past years, she had forgotten what a joy it was to bask in the satisfaction of daily work. As she passed the steps that led to the pass, she hesitated, but continued on. She decided not to go today, for she had a feeling this would not be the day of his return. She did not want to dampen her spirits with what would surely be a deep disappointment and worry.

Ok, so there's another one.

I decided to draw out Tristan's absence a bit more. I'm really trying to make place for Ranya within the fort, because I really want to add to her complexity. I don't enjoy characters that are cut and dry, left and right. She's gone through a lot, her feelings and emotions aren't even entirely recognizable to her yet and…she's a woman. We will explore the latter explanation once Tristan is back. Ladies, I believe you all understand what I am talking about.

Please review, I love them!

Hessa