Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original character.
Alright, it's been a while, but I am still very much dedicated to this story. Thanks to all who have reviewed.
Chapter 14:
The summer months passed swiftly, and with their passing came the colder wind that blew ominously from the north. The new season was setting in, and it brought a much-needed respite to all, since everyone had been working hard, making sure the crops were picked in time.
The knights had not been on a mission in quite a while, and though they appreciated not having to leave the fort, it made them nervous. So used to fighting all the time, it was hard to readjust, with the impending possibility that they might have to go into battle any day.
The air was becoming increasingly cold, and the lush greenness that surrounded them had begun its kaleidoscopic transformation, gracing the eyes of many with fiery reds and wild oranges.
This in itself caused Ranya to go into momentary lapses of amazement, where she just stared open-mouthed at the colours emanating from the trees.
Gawain and Galahad found much amusement in this, when they had caught her doing it on the wall.
And once again, Ranya's sensitivity to the cold had begun, and she found her fingers and feet felt it most. She was very thankful she had the heat from the forge to keep her warm during the day.
At the moment, the cold was the last thing from her mind as she soaked her tense body in the heated waters of the bathhouse. Malva and Vanora had convinced her to come with them, saying there was nothing better for a tired body than submerging it in hot, scented water. They had all been working very hard the past few days. Malva was busy with plentiful orders for warm cloaks and tunics, Vanora, as usual, had her brood to take care of, as well as the tavern, and Ranya had worked tirelessly the past few days, replacing hinges and fixing latches, helping to prepare for the coming winter.
She had never been to the bathhouse, mostly because she had never seen one and so did not know what it was.
She was happy she knew now. The women were the only ones occupying the stone pool and were conversing pleasantly amongst themselves. The steam from the hot waters surrounded them, while lit torches gave the room a peaceful glow.
" Vanora how is it you managed some time for your yourself tonight? With your lot, I'd think a few would have followed," said Malva, running water over her bare shoulder.
" I told Bors he'd have the goats to warm his bed if he didn't allow me to have one night to myself" she said with a grin, causing the women to laugh.
" I don't know how you do it Van" Malva said, still smiling as she shook her head.
" Hmm, well, I won't lie and say it's easy. It's bloody hard work, having a family. But you do what you must, because they are yours, and you are all they have. It's hardest when my Bors is away" Vanora said calmly. They fell silent, dwelling upon the void everyone felt when the knights were away. It was much more personal for Vanora, for she was constantly worrying if she would ever see her man again. It was a hard life.
They talked for quite a while, Ranya commenting here and there, but mostly remaining silent, listening to their words. She felt at peace, and a lazy tranquility had engulfed her this night.
Eventually, the two got out of the pool, ready to leave. Ranya told them she would stay a while longer, not wanting to give this up just yet.
When she was alone, she swam lazily in the hot water, lifting her arms above her head and drifting silently. So lost was she that she did not notice who had arrived.
Tristan was tired. Exhausted really. The first thing he had wanted to do when he had returned from his scouting mission with Lancelot was to go his quarters and fall into bed. But he was filthy, and as tired as he was, he knew he would be in a foul mood come morning upon seeing dirty sheets.
They had been gone four days, and had only had one night of full sleep.
Walking into the bathhouse, he had expected to find it empty at this hour. However, he found the bath to be occupied by a dark skinned nymph.
She had not heard him; else she would have covered herself. He felt no shame in taking in her naked form, which was so splendidly displayed to him. Her womanly curves accommodated the flowing water around her, and Tristan thought he had never seen anything so seductive. She had sort of innocent expression of pleasure on her face, as if water was the most marvellous thing in the world. Her olive skin looked like liquid bronze as the water made it glisten in the candlelight. The swell of her breasts and the flat plain of her stomach were hidden and exposed intermittently, as she dipped lower into the water.
It had been a long time since he had seen a woman naked, and usually this form of abstinence did not bother him so much. Now though, he felt a familiar stirring in his loins as he leaned against one of the stone pillars. She was sensuality in the flesh.
He cleared his throat loudly, letting her know he was there.
She gasped and turned sharply towards him, covering her chest with her arms and keeping her lower body submerged. She stared at him in shock for a moment, backing away towards the edge of the pool.
" You-…you are back" she said numbly. He fought back a grin at her stunned face.
" I am" he responded, still looking at her. Even with her darkened skin, he could perceive a deep flush escalating on her face and neck. She surprised him, in that she had not immediately screamed at him to leave. He was not such the gentleman as to go out of his way to preserve a woman's modesty. And there was something about this particular woman that stirred him to take as much of her in as he could.
" You should not stay here alone too long after dark. Your safety is not guaranteed," he said, taking a linen robe from the bench and handing it to her. This time he made a point of looking at the stone mosaic on the wall across the room. There was no need to push things.
" Thank you for your concern, but I was not planning on staying long" she said, quickly enveloping herself in the robe. There was no way to hide the irritation in her voice, nor did she wish to. How long had he been there? He could have made his presence known sooner, or at least left her to her solitude upon finding the baths occupied.
" That may be so, but certain acts of violence can be executed quite quickly. You should take care to avoid situations such as these," he said, never once betraying the passivity his face strove so hard to uphold.
" You mean situations such as a knight of the court wilfully intruding upon a woman's privacy with little regard to her modesty? Is that an accurate depiction, my lord?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
He fought a grin.
" Indeed. Very accurate" he said, removing his filthy tunic. She had fire, this one.
"Well, would it be too much to ask of you to refrain from participating in such behaviours? I am not some trinket to be gawked at" she said.
" I'll make it a point to try" he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. This was very unlike him. This kind conversation was usually reserved for Lancelot.
She said nothing, simply exhaled and turned to leave. But as she passed the last stone pillar in the bathhouse, something made her look back. Perhaps it was simply a desire to avenge the recent transgression imposed upon her person…in any case, desire was somewhere at the cause of it. He was sitting on the edge of the pool, one foot brushing the soothing waters, while the other leg was bent. He was prodding his left shoulder, being very careful. Another injury perhaps? Despite her previous agitation, she still felt worried for him. These sentiments were really starting to be a bother.
"You know, for someone who dislikes being observed, you certainly do a good job of it yourself," he said, his distant voice creating a faint echo.
Making up her mind, she walked back towards him.
What happened to your arm?" she asked.
" Small mishap with a lancet" he said.
The said 'small mishap' was a vile gash on the inside of his shoulder, which was at this point covered with a bloody crust. Evidently, the need for a hot bath was more pressing than the treating of a wound.
"You should have let Lugaid have a look at that," she said, kneeling down next to him.
He did not understand her. Just a few moments ago she was berating him for his intrusion, and now she was helping him. Women.
"Here" she said, taking the wet cloth from him. He said nothing as she cleaned the wound, simply closed is eyes and let her do as she would. At this point, he had absolutely no energy to protest. She was gentle, but efficient. The cleansing of a wound is never an agreeable experience, and she knew this. There was no trace of meekness or fear as she went on with her work, as some of Lugaid's female aids often showed whenever they treated him. It was a welcome change.
She did not ask for a detailed explanation of how he procured this particular wound. She imagined it was simply one among many.
"Do you have anything to wrap this with?" she asked.
He nodded, his eyes still closed.
" On the bench"
She went to retrieve a rolled up piece of cloth that looked like the ones used by Lugaid to wrap wounds.
As she turned however, she was rooted to her spot. Sometimes, we are faced with moments were the truest of images graces our eyes. For Ranya, this was one of those moments. His outline was cast in the incandescent reflection of the water and his head was slightly bent forwards. He passed a hand over his eyes, trying to chase away the exhaustion. She could barely perceive the ragged scars on his back.
He looked so tired, so resigned. To see such a normally strong and powerful man look so…defeated. She could not help but wonder if it was always like this for him. Was he always alone when apart from the other knights? Was there anyone here at the fort t to care for him, or care what happened to him for that matter? She knew for certain that she was now one of the rare few that had seen this side of him.
She came back to kneel beside him, and wrapped the cloth around his shoulder. It was not a deeply serious wound, but it still had o be taken care of.
As she tied the knot, she let her fingertips brush one of the scars on his upper back. She did not know why she did it.
His muscles tensed immediately, and in the quickest of flashes, he had her small wrist in his firm grip. And once again, the dark shadows in their eyes collided. She was breathing harder than he was, she noticed. She supposed it took more than the proximity of a woman to faze him.
A stillness filled the room as they looked at each other.
Ranya could bear it no longer.
"I-…" her speech was interrupted by Tristan's mouth on her own. There was no brutality to it, but she felt his demand that she not push him away. Immediately, she was lost. Lost to her senses, lost to everything around her. All she knew was his smell, the feel of his rough hand on her wrist, his lips. For the life of her, she could not protest. Not because he was not allowing her, but more because she did not want him to stop. She felt his teeth graze her lower lip and then bite down very gently.
And just as suddenly, his lips were gone. Opening her eyes, she saw him turn back towards the water. He said nothing, provided no explanation for what had just happened.
She did not speak, nor ask him why. For some reason, she did not feel compelled to. She stood and went to gather her clothes and made her way towards the large wooden doors that led to the cold, night air.
" Thank you" she heard him say, so quietly it was almost lost among the gentle rustling of the water.
She briefly paused in her step, but finally left the bathhouse.
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The night air felt heavy upon his face, weighing down on his tiredness. His room was dark, save for the small slivers of sombre moonlight creeping through the window.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he wondered just what had gone through his mind earlier. He wasn't the type to go after women. The women he spent his time with charged him for it, and they weren't that hard to find.
But Ranya, she wasn't one to trifle with, and he knew that well.
Being so near to her earlier, he just could not help himself. He'd never wanted anything more than he did then. He still wanted her, even now, which is what troubled him most.
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"Bors, for hell's sake, do something about your children! I am trying to work here!" bellowed Vanora, her arms laden with ale mugs. Two of her eldest children were currently running around the crowded tavern, chasing each other.
" Right lads, I'm afraid that's it for me" Bors said, getting up from the table the knights were currently assembled around.
"Don't forget your cattle there Bors" Lancelot said, revealing another one of his cheeky grins. Bors, to his credit, chose wisely to ignore the comment and left the tavern with his two children in tow.
" I tell you, sometimes those boys are worse than my children," said Vanora to Ranya, nodding towards the knights. Ranya had agreed to help Vanora tonight, and was currently elbow deep in water washing the mugs.
" Well, men can be like that sometimes. I don't think they ever really grow out of it," said Ranya with a smile.
"Hmm, well I don't think that's the cause of it tonight. Have you heard about the cavalry coming in?"
"Cavalry? From where?" asked a confused Ranya.
" Rome, apparently. Arthur spoke to the knights this morning and they arrive in two days. That's why the men are having their good time tonight" said Vanora.
A roman cavalry at the fort. This certainly did not bode well for Ranya. What if they found out about who she was? What if they heard of what happened at Gallus' fort and were looking for her?
Vanora saw the change in her face.
"Ranya, don't worry. You are safe here. They can't touch you here" she said, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Ranya tried to take comfort in Vanora's words, but she still had a lingering fear of what could happen if she was discovered.