I finally own the King Arthur DVD. I had no idea what I was going to do for the sequel when it follows the timeline of the movie, so I was in mild panic mode about dialogue issues. It's okay now though. It will all go as planned. ;D And I've decided to post all of this and the sequel. I'm probably going to post the other story soon too, so you'll be getting plenty of me (whether you like it or not (; ).
My mom is talking to her candles. She wonders why I'm so weird. She needs a mirror, obviously.
Read on, dears!
"I never know where you like to go when you're alone, and why you can't be reached. Does anybody know? Breaking up again. Are you listening to anything I've said? Tell me where you are, and I'll find you. Tell me what it takes to see this through. Tell me what it takes to get to you, and I'll be there, waiting."-Hit the Lights
*+*Aderyn*+*
When I woke up, I was on my stomach in my usual patch of dirt, facing towards the cottage wall with an undeniable sense of annoyance brewing in my gut. I couldn't figure out why I felt so angry. I thought hard on it, and then the memories of last night all came flooding back so fast that I felt instantaneously furious.
Tristan had threatened me, and gone so far as to hold a dagger to my throat. My fingers curled into tight fists at the very thought. He acted like I had nerve for wanting him not to kill himself! Bastard!
I uttered a long string of unladylike Woad curses as I lifted myself, popping my shoulder obnoxiously as I did so. I groaned, and glanced at the long beam of yellow sunlight streaming under the door. Maybe it would be warm today. I could take Egryn out, and-
My thoughts died in my head, and I let out a loud scream when I saw someone staring at me from my own bed. I scrambled backwards, slamming my head into the wall and cutting my leg as I yanked my dagger out of my boot. I pointed it at the intruder, breathing heavily. Their face was shrouded in shadow, as was most of them because of the dim light in the room, but I would have recognized that tangled mass of dark hair anywhere.
"Tristan?" I gasped. He didn't respond, confirming my suspicions. "Gods, you scared me, I…"
My eyes narrowed at him as I reminded myself of what I'd been thinking about before I noticed him. He'd defied me, threatened me, and yet he was still here. I thought he would have been heading back to where he came from now or at least been dead on his horse somewhere. He was leaning casually against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. He was facing towards me, but I couldn't tell if he was looking at me or not because of the dark. I scrabbled forward, grabbing the oil lamp and a flint to light it. The wick ignited, flooding the room with warm orange light. Turns out that he wasn't looking at me, he was staring at something in his hands.
"Why didn't you leave?" I asked, kneeling next to the lamp.
I was determined to wait for him to answer, but he didn't seem very talkative, as usual. So I sat on the ground, and fixed him with a penetrating stare. It could have been minutes or hours that I waited, but eventually my knees started to go numb. I didn't want to give in first, but my stomach was growling viciously, demanding I eat. I stirred, getting ready to go outside.
"I did." I froze, turning back to the man before me. He was still staring at something he had clenched in his left fist.
"You did?" I asked.
"Got about a hundred yards away," he grumbled.
"Why didn't you keep going?"
He sighed loudly, like he was annoyed and wanted me to know it. His eyes finally met mine.
"Hurt," he grunted, looking back down. I knew how much that must have taken him, being able to admit that something was too much for him to take. He was obviously very proud, and I could appreciate that he hadn't lied. I stood and grabbed my saddle bag, procuring the last apple I'd harvested. I chopped it in right down the middle, and held out half to him. His fingertips touched mine when he took it, and something sparked in me when his calloused skin came in contact with mine. I kept my face carefully blank, looking for his reaction. His eyes only met mine for a brief second before he pulled my dagger from the side of his breeches and cut a piece off of the apple. I guess he hadn't felt it.
I blew out the oil lamp, and threw open the door instead, letting the light in. I took a bite from my half of the apple as I walked around back. His horse was in the stable with Egryn, and she was lapping up water from the trough. Her saddle and bridle had been removed, surprisingly. I pondered how he managed to remove the heavy leather saddle if he was in so much pain. I shrugged it off, deciding that it was probably another of his ridiculous masculine things again.
Egryn trotted up to me, and whinnied softly, giving me doe eyes. I sighed, and handed what was left of my apple half to him. He chomped it up, and then went back to his corner.
"Glutton," I muttered, turning back around. I heard a bird cry, and froze. Drenna?
The cry sounded again, and I relaxed. It was much too high-pitched. I searched the skies for the source, and saw a relatively familiar pair of eyes glaring down at me. It was the same hawk from the other day, looking at me accusingly. I scowled back.
"I have to wonder why you hate me," I told it. It ruffled its feathers. "Don't lie to me, bird. I know you want to peck my eyes out. I can sense it."
It ignored me and flew away. I huffed.
"It's rude to fly away when you are having an argument!" I yelled after it.
I went back inside, and saw Tristan trying to stand up. I rushed over, pulling on his bicep to assist him.
"What?" he asked sardonically. "No berating from you today?"
I scoffed. "Sorry to disappoint, but it really is time you started getting back on your feet."
His lip twitched, and I could have sworn it was sort of a smile. I found myself smiling, despite my uncertainty. I was tucked beneath his arm, using my shoulder to keep him up. It struck me just how small I was compared to him. My head only came up to his shoulder, and he was so broad that I could stand behind him and completely disappear. He started to topple forward, and I put my hand on his chest to steady him.
"Easy," I said, using the same tone I used when I talked to Egryn. He ignored me, and grabbed my hand from his chest. He started to pull it towards his face, and my breath got stuck in my throat. For a moment, it was like he might kiss it…
But he didn't. He was examining it instead. "What happened to your wrist?" he asked.
I only just realized he was holding my gimpy arm, and I pulled it out of his grip and slipped out from under his arm. He swayed a little, but managed to remain standing by himself. "It broke," I answered.
"Didn't feel broken," he remarked.
"It isn't. It broke a long time ago."
"You never had it mended?" There was an accusation hidden none too well in his words.
"I did," I replied defensively. "It was just too late. It had already begun to heal itself."
He was looking at my arm strangely now, and I was suspicious he could see the odd angle my shoulder sat at too. I turned away, picking up my sheathed sword to buckle around my waist.
"Who were you talking too?" he questioned suspiciously.
"When?" I asked.
"When you were outside. I heard you yelling."
"Oh. There is a bird out there that seems to find me to be an issue. It keeps squawking at me."
"Really?" He sounded so amused that I turned to look at him. One side of his lips was quirked up.
"Yes." I answered, phrasing it like a question. He shook his head, the same subtle smirk still showing. I stared at it, mesmerized. His cheekbones were less prominent when he smiled, making him seem more approachable (but for Tristan, that was still much less approachable than most people). He was even more attractive this way.
My cheeks flamed, and I whipped around so my back was to him. Did I really just think that? What did I mean "more attractive"? He wasn't attractive in the first place. He was…irritating. Yes. I turned back around when my blush receded, and he was leaning against the wall contently.
"Why are you standing up?"
"Because I am sick of lying down."
"Fair enough," I muttered. He shook his head, trying to get some of the longer sections of hair out of his eyes. All he succeeded in doing was making himself look more wild.
I snorted in amusement, and stepped towards him. "You look like a fool. Let me fix it."
He tensed and pushed himself back into the wall like he was trying to shove himself through it, but didn't move when I reached for his hair. I grabbed the longest pieces, separated them, and then plaited them with nimble fingers. I reached down to my boot, and yanked the excess shoelace off, using it to secure the plait at the bottom. I did this a few more times until he had several of them all over his head. He shook his head vigorously, like when Egryn was trying to dry himself. When only a minimal amount was in his eyes, he seemed satisfied. He nodded in thanks.
I admired the effect of the plaits out of the corner of my eye. I could see more of this face this way, even though his eyes remained evasive. Pieces still fell into his eyes, but I knew he preferred it that way.
No matter what he said about me, I wasn't the one in this room who wanted to hide.
*+*Tristan*+*
She left without a word, but I was used to that by now. I could sense her hesitance to get close to me, reminding me of my hawk when I first came across her with a broken wing. She'd been very wary of me, but knew she needed my help. Her survival instinct was the only thing keeping her from trying to escape me. Was it the same with this skittish girl? What could she need me for that forced her to allow my proximity?
I started to feel weary on my feet, my head swimming uncomfortably. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the dirt floor, a few feet from the bed. I felt a ridiculous satisfaction that I was no longer on that bed. I was restless now, and the thing seemed truly accursed.
I listened to the sounds emanating from the doorway, and relaxed. I could only really be calm if I didn't feel trapped, and this cottage felt like a prison. It wasn't the building imprisoning me though; it was my body. This damned injury was turning me into an invalid. I sneered at the thought. I hadn't even ridden far enough to be out of sight of this clearing when I knew I couldn't do it. I wasn't used to such pathetic limitations, and I'd gone to sleep beyond angry. I felt the sting of it now: embarrassment combined with frustration.
Aderyn stomped back into the room with her usual lack of ladylike grace, and flopped down on the ground. She didn't spare me a glance as she started to sort through a basket full of plants she'd brought with her. A blush crept up her face without warning, and her eyes darted to me and back to her work. I smirked, realizing I was having an effect on her.
"Stop staring at me," she snapped, tucking her chin even closer to her body. My smirk dropped, and my eyes narrowed.
Women. No, not just women; everyone. The only bearable people in the world were my fellow Sarmatian knights, and our commander. Vanora fell into that category sometimes as well. But this woman right here was insufferable. All she ever did was complain and order people around, and that included inanimate objects. She even yelled at my hawk to come back to her because she was arguing with it. She was an infuriating little wench, and she'd clearly lost her mind.
I closed my eyes, and immediately opened them back up when an image of this very same girl exploded behind my eyelids. It wasn't the her of today though, it was her the night she'd fixed my stitches and cried while she held my hand. She was vulnerable then, just like my hawk had been when her wing was broken. I'd seen the side of her that was hidden behind the snappy retorts and unpleasant demeanor.
Despite myself, I craved to see that again. I wanted her to break down, even if it made her cry. I'd seen behind the wall. It was like an alcoholic's first sip of wine. I'd gotten a taste, and now I needed more. I'd never experienced anything like this yearning before, and it irked me. But I would see it through.
The cry of a hawk reached us in the cabin, but I knew immediately that it wasn't my hawk. To my surprise, Aderyn stood up so fast that I barely caught the movement, and was staring outside like she was watching her own death approaching her.
*+*Aderyn*+*
"Listen to me," I said hastily from the corner of my mouth, collecting my basket in the pretense of cleaning it up. I knew she would be watching me through the doorway, so I was moving as fast as I could. "No matter what happens, do not come outside. Stay completely silent. Do not move."
Tristan's eyes were narrowed to slits, and he looked extremely suspicious. "Why?"
"I promise you I will explain when I return, but please, please just listen to me this once, Tristan," I pleaded, trying to hide the note of hysteria in my voice.
"If I do not get an explanation, it will not end well for you," he said finally. I ignored the threat, and dashed outside, slamming the door behind me. I returned her call with my owl sound, but it sounded like said owl was being throttled.
Drenna emerged from between the trees, seeming to appear out of thin air. One of her eyebrows was arched.
"What took so long?" she asked. "I saw you trying to pick something up inside."
I laughed airily. "Yes, I was sorting herbs. It was messy," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. It wasn't working.
Drenna had been coming by less frequently since Tristan's men had been here, and I'd had so much on my mind that I hadn't spared much thought on her recently. I'd relaxed too much, and I was paying the price. If she decided I was acting too strange, she would walk right in and see the man I had hidden in my home. I didn't even want to think of her reaction. I forced myself to calm, slowing my breathing. My shoulder suddenly locked from my high stress level, and I jerked it quickly.
Drenna was eying me speculatively, and I waited, fighting desperately against the flood of confessions bursting to get through my lips. Her stern motherly look was slowly making me crumble.
"Well," she finally said, dropping her shifty eyes and donning a smile instead, "I came by to see if you wanted to spar a bit. I haven't been able to test your skills in a long time."
"Actually, Drenna, I'm not feeling too well," I blurted. To make up for the quickness with which I said it, I grimaced appropriately.
"Really?" she asked flatly. I nodded. "Yr oeddech yn dirwy funud yn ôl."
"Oh, I, uh…didn't want to worry you. But I'm definitely not well enough for dueling right now. Mae'n ddrwg gennyf, Drenna."
She stared at me, and I stared back, keeping my grimace in place. There was a loose thread from my tunic tickling my arm and I desperately wanted to tug at it, but I always tended to fidget when I was lying. Drenna was well aware of that.
Her jaw tightened, and she held out one hand towards me. "Hand," she demanded.
My eyes widened, and I started to shake my head. "Drenna, that isn't necessary, I-"
"Awr!" she snapped. My shoulders sagged with defeat, and I slipped my hand into hers. She tugged me to the log I used as a seat by the fire, and pushed me down onto it. Once she was seated next to me, she turned my palm up, and started to stare at my hand intently.
Most people thought Merlin and all of his family were dark magicians, but that wasn't true. Their use of herbs and certain concoctions for healing were viewed as dangerous potions or poisons, and their praying to their gods was viewed as spell work. It was all high superstition that really meant nothing. They did, however, possess an acute foresight. I had not believed in it until Drenna had started to do this every time she suspected I was lying. She would study my palm, and suddenly would be able to see right through me and find out what really happened. I waited in anticipation as she stretched my calloused skin taught across the bones in my hand, looking for things that I would never see.
She started to mutter under her breath, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. She cocked her head to the left, and pulled my palm into a beam of sunlight, her eyes only inches from it.
Suddenly she yelped like she'd been burned, and threw my hand away from her, exclaiming, "Eich tynged wedi newid!"
"What?" I asked, bemused. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her mouth was twisted into an aghast frown. She clutched both of her hands over her heart.
"Oh, my sweet girl," she gasped, "your entire future has shifted to a new path! I have never seen such a drastic change in such a short time."
"I don't understand," I admitted.
She lunged forward and grasped both of my hands tightly in her own, and her sad gaze met my befuddled one. "Your love for him will change everything," she whispered.
"My love for who?" I asked. Every time she answered one of my questions, ten more popped up in their place.
"I do not know," she replied, "but you will. He is not from here, but from a distant land he feels no allegiance to." Her eyes glazed over, and even though she was looking at me I knew she didn't see me, only what was in her mind's eye. "He is haunted, as you are, by his past. The only person who can heal your scars is he. Your fates are the most tightly intertwined that I have ever seen."
"I do not know who you are talking about!" I exclaimed, my frustration getting the best of me. "What man is there in this damned forest?"
Her eyes focused back on me, and she smiled without it reaching her eyes. I knew this was serious when she didn't reprimand me for cursing. "There will be, Aderyn. He will love you more deeply than even you will be able to comprehend, and you will feel the same. But beware, little one: he will break your heart."
*+*Arthur*+*
Once again I found myself traipsing across the land I'd come to detest, searching for a man who seemed to not want to be found. Tristan had a way of remaining hidden, but always making his presence known at the same time. This was so unusual that he would just disappear for over two weeks now. He would not have done so willingly. Something was amiss.
The men had become more and more discontented with being here. This was quite possibly our last mission for the empire, and it was driving them crazy that it was so pointless. They wanted to return to the fort, tell the senator his son was dead, drown their sorrow in drink, and wait for their discharge papers. I didn't blame them. They'd fought hard all these years, but still, I had never failed to bury any of my men in our cemetery on Badon Hill, and I wasn't about to start with Tristan.
I'd left them to their devices today, choosing to search on my own. I was doing anything to placate them in order to keep the peace. I hadn't ever detected such a level of mutiny with them before. I knew it was because they were distraught over losing one of our own so soon before being dispatched. Bors talked often of Vanora and his troupe of bastard children, a testament to his homesickness.
I stopped walking, and sighed stressfully, running my hand over my face. This was too much for me. Tristan was missing, and my men were desperate to go home. Two choices: leave or stay. They were conflicting, but I couldn't please both parties for much longer. It was all up to me.
My thoughts were broken by the sound of light footsteps. If there had been any other sound echoing around me, I would have missed them. Drenna appeared through the trees, seemingly not noticing me. She was approaching the embankment we'd been forbidden from. She jumped over it, and landed on the other side, disappearing within the cover of the trees soon after.
What was down there that she wanted us not to see? I immediately pushed it from my head. I already had too much on my mind, and I didn't need to add a forbidden stretch of trees to that list. I rolled my shoulders, and then trudged onward.
Yr oeddech yn dirwy funud yn ôl: You were fine a minute ago
Mae'n ddrwg gennyf, Drenna: Sorry, Drenna
Awr: Now
Eich tynged wedi newid: Your destiny has changed
My final edit of this took me three hours because my aunt, her boyfriend, and my mom have been blabbing around me while I'm trying to concentrate. I can't edit in these conditions!
Anyway, four reviews, please and thank you. :D
Love to you all!