Disclaimer: for the 37th time, I do not own anything.
Chapter 37 Change of Heart
The first rays of gold hit the dark sky, scaring away the shadows of night and heralded the new day. It was once again a rare morning as the sun showed her glorious face without a veil of thick clouds to hide her from those below her. The entire camp still slept under strict order from the elders not to disturb the morning's proceedings. Not even the birds were heard singing their praise to a new day, as Merlin made his way over to the figure that lay slumped over a log next to the remains of the night's fire.
The weathered leader looked down at Cassia's face, before waking her, and noticed that the youth she had once possessed was completely gone. Before him lay a woman clothed in ill-fitting and tattered garments. Her hair did not even lay sprawled around her from the amount of mud that it was caked with. As he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, she roused and he noticed that her once warm and deep eyes were dull and lifeless though she still breathed. Merlin didn't have to say a word before Cassia rose to follow him silently, to her death.
As they walked Cassia looked around the camp from body to body of sleeping men and women. They were not blue demons as she had once thought, but they were humans of flesh and blood and heart and soul just as she had once been. Her eye caught the elderly woman who had showed her how to skin a rabbit the night before, and Cassia couldn't help but smile as she saw youth the woman still possessed in sleep. Cassia wished that she still had beauty in sleep, but she knew that she had never possessed such beauty and now it no longer matter.
As they passed the boundaries of the camp, Cassia finally hung her head low and just followed the steps of the man in front of her. Her hair hung in clumps in front of her face and around her shoulders. The golden brown locks that had once been her pride and only beauty, now just added to her disparity. As they came to a small clearing Merlin halted, and Cassia finally glanced up. The clearing was so small that she could have leapt to the other side had she felt the urge. Merlin stood holding his staff tightly as he leaned against it tiredly. Cassia could tell that he had slept no more than she the previous nights, and she felt guilty that she had been the cause of it.
Cassia hadn't noticed the warrior beside Merlin until the young man, painted fully in woad, stepped forward holding out a Roman gladius to the stunned slave. "You kept your word," Cassia said a bit unbelieving.
"I told you I would do what I could," Merlin said with a small smile at the way Cassia's eyes lit up as she received the gleaming weapon from the guard. Cassia's eyes suddenly had a hint of life in them once again as she cradled the blade in her arms as if it were the most precious thing in the world. "You may have privacy if you wish it," Merlin said as he ushered the guard out of the clearing. Cassia did not reply as she stood in the middle of the clearing with sword in hand. The sun was climbing slowly into the sky just beyond the trees, and Cassia waited patiently, knowing that the rays would weave their ways through the net of branches and leaves above her. All she wanted was to feel the warmth of the sun caress her cheek one last time before she left this world.
As she waited Cassia's mind brought her back to the days before she had left Rome. As Cassia thought of her innocent childhood, she could not think of a time she was happier than the nights that her and Vanora would be the only to women working in the tavern, watching the knights joke and play. There was something freeing in the way those men who had seen more bloodshed than anyone should ever have could forget all their troubles so long as they had each other. Cassia finally admitted to herself that she had never felt that companionship or love with Marcus. She had fallen in love with the idea of the man she wished Marcus was, but she had never actually loved him.
All sounds and movements of the world around her faded as Cassia lifted the short sword from her side. She could feel the golden rays penetrate the shadow of the forest, as the morning presented itself one last time to the defeated Cassia. As the heat of the morning sun caressed her battered form, Cassia slowly lifted the wicked blade in front of her. She let a small tear make its way down her dirty cheek and clear a clean path for others to follow, as she tilted her head toward the rising sun. All her mind allowed her to think of was the day she had sat with Tristan by the edge of the stream as she did her wash. She remembered the way the light had danced across the scout's bare chest and the way his eyes were warm as the rays of sun upon her now, as he watched her work.
This was the way Cassia would die. She didn't think of the pain her or anyone else had caused her, and as she focused on only the good she lifted the sword just a little further before swiftly pulling it toward her weary chest. The point of the blade had barely made contact with Cassia's soft stomach before it and her arms were held immobile by two strong but gentle hands grasping her frail wrists. Before Cassia could open her eyes or hear the sounds of battle around her, a very simple phrase was whispered into her ear by a very gravelly and accented voice. "I did not give you permission to die."
All of a sudden Cassia was aware of the strong arms wrapped around her weak frame from behind her. She could feel the tickle of the man's beard on her neck as he moved his lips away from her ear. She could feel the firmness of his chest as it was pressed against her quivering shoulders. She heard the dull thud of metal hitting earth as the sword fell from her tired fingers, and she could feel her body give out as she slumped into his protective embrace. She could feel her body being lowered to rest in his lap as he knelt on the cold earth. Finally she heard her own broken voice as she found the one word that had followed her even to her final moments. "Tristan," she whispered in a rush of breath as her tears finally caught up with her and she couldn't help but sob. Tears of joy, relief, a multitude of other emotions flowed down her dirty encrusted cheeks.
"Shh," the scout whispered as he placed a gentle thumb to each of her cheeks and wiped the tears away as one would to a small child. Cassia felt him pull her closer to him as she became fully aware of the battle going on not far off. Cassia didn't bother to look anywhere but into Tristan's deep golden eyes as she continued to sob silently at all that she had gone through, as well as the fact that Tristan had come back for her. Cassia had never let herself hope that Tristan would even think of returning for her, but when she looked into his eyes she knew she had underestimated him yet again. "Did I not promise to protect you from those with ill intentions," Tristan asked in a barely audible whisper, but Cassia simply nodded then buried her face in his chest as he wrapped her cloak around her shaking frame.
It felt like an eternity before the sounds of battle began to dim but had only been a matter of moments, and Tristan finally loosened his grip on her slightly. When the clearing was finally silent once again, Tristan cradled Cassia in his arms as he rose to his feet. Cassia heard foot steps approaching them, but she still refused to lift her head from Tristan's chest. She heard a low whistle come from the chest against as he held her as gently as he would a princess, and soon the thud of hooves was heard approaching.
Tristan didn't even notice the throb in his ankle or pain in his ribs and side as he lifted a shaken Cassia into the saddle and mounted behind her. He found himself thanking every deity that he knew of, as he thought of how close they had come to being too late. The only reason that they had arrived in time to save his feisty slave was because the Woad, Guinevere, had come looking for them.
Tristan had just finished arguing with Arthur over going back for Cassia when an oddly familiar figure crossed their horses' paths. She was wrapped in a think cloak that did little to hide her barely clothed and tattooed form, but Tristan blocked the others from attacking her.
"Tristan you must come now. They will kill her at dawn, and I don't know if we shall make it back in time as it is," Guinevere spoke quickly as air rushed in and out of her lungs from running the entire way from the camp to the fort. Tristan didn't say a word as he lifted her into the saddle in front of him and began to gallop in the direction that the dark girl pointed in. The others didn't have the time to question the situation before they hurried to keep up with the scout.
The sun's rays were already gracing the sky when Tristan let Guinevere slip from his saddle, just outside the camp. He nearly gave up hope when Cassia was no where to be seen but he rode through the camp like a man possessed as he searched anyway. The others fought those who woke while Tristan searched. It was Merlin himself that pointed Tristan in the right direction as he returned from the clearing.
"Take her, but spare my people," the wise leader said as he called for his men and women to surrender. Tristan and Arthur both nodded as Tristan disappeared in Cassia's direction. Some Woads continued to fight, but mostly in was the sound of retreat and disappointment that made it to Tristan and Cassia's ears. When he had seen Cassia standing there with her blade poised to thrust it into her own chest, he had seen Isolde standing there with his own dagger. He had lost all thought and only concentrated on stopping what he had failed to prevent so many years ago.
The ride back to the fort was a silent one. All of the knights just watched the way their scout and his slave held onto each other as though nothing else existed. Even Gawain couldn't help but see that Tristan truly did care for the small Roman woman probably even more that he or the others could even understand.
As the fort came into view over the hills beyond the forest, each knight kicked their mount into a gallop and thundered through the gates and past the inquisitive eyes of the inhabitants. Tristan's horse barely halted as he slide from the saddle with Cassia in his arms, and began to make his way to the inn. Kay grabbed the reins of the excited stallion and guided it to a stall from his comrade.
Cassia had sobbed herself to sleep by the time that Tristan found an open room for her. He gently placed her on the small cot before quickly disappearing to retrieve extra blankets so that she might be comfortable. Once he had surrounded her in as many warm blankets and pillows as he could steal from the other knights, he knelt beside her on the floor. After rummaging through many of the pockets hidden in his armor, he found the jewel he had been looking for. Slowly, Tristan took Cassia's shackled wrist and tied the small emerald charm around it. He had hoped to give it back to her when he apologized to her the first time, but they had always butted heads instead. Now, he returned it to her as a sign that she no longer owed him anything, but instead he owed her his very existence. Tristan knew very well that Cassia had traded her life for his, and that had she not, they both probably would be dead now.
After brushing several clumps of her matted hair away from her relaxed face, Tristan rose to take care of the other mistake he had had so grievously made. The other knights watched as Tristan closed the door to Cassia's room and began to make his way down the hall. Arthur stood waiting for his scout as Tristan marched silently. "Tristan we leave as soon as Cassia is well enough to travel. I met with Gaius and told him that we had taken care of the Woad problem. He was less than pleased with us about it, but he said that we may leave because we shall no longer be needed," Arthur informed his scout. "I would like to speak with you, if it is not too much trouble, Tristan," Arthur ventured hoping that his scout was not too angry to speak.
"I have business to attend to Arthur. I will meet with you later if it is not urgent," Tristan asked once again with a statement. Arthur simply nodded understandingly as Tristan continued out the doors of the inn.
As Tristan approached Lena's hut he heard shouting and saw Darius exiting followed closely by an angry Lena. "Son of a whore, stay away from my children," Lena screamed as the wind swept the ebony locks out of her face, giving Tristan a clear view of the hand print that adorned it.
"I do stay away from you children, Lena," Darius sneered, "I just go near the daughter of that Sarmatian's whore." Darius didn't see the fist coming toward his face, but he felt it as he was knocked over from the force of it.
"Leave, Roman," Tristan growled with disgust as he watched Darius' eyes widen as he hurried off without a second glance. "He hit you," Tristan said stoically as he took Cassia's chin in his hand gently. "I shall make sure that he touches neither you nor your children anymore," he promised before she could say a word.
"What are you doing here, Tristan? Everyone says that the knights are leaving before the day is out," Lena asked as she tried to cover her battered face.
"I came to set things right. You were correct when you said some things are more important than the pain they cause us," Tristan paused and took a breath. Lena's eyes widened at the fact that he had listened to a word she said. "I shall take her back with me, and for your loyalty I shall continue to send you what Arthur has been," Tristan proposed the offer with little emotion.
"You really have come to take her," Lena asked in disbelief. Before Tristan could reply, he had a sobbing woman in his arms holding onto him for dear life. "This is wonderful. Rosheen will be ecstatic when she sees who you really are," Lena said as she wiped her joyful tears out of her still overflowing eyes. Tristan gently placed the back of his index finger to her cheek, catching a tear as he smiled a rare smile at her. He was usually uncomfortable with unnecessary contact, but Lena had been like a sister to Isolde and Tristan wouldn't deny her.
"Where is she, Lena," Tristan asked softly as she embraced him yet again. Magda stood in the doorway with a look of relief on her normally scowling face. Magda didn't care one bit if Tristan took Rosheen or any other child with him, but his promise to keep Darius away was enough for her to be grateful. She constantly had bruises all over her body from the abusive Roman, and Tristan was probably the only man that didn't fear Darius and would probably kill him.
"She's just outside the fort no doubt. She always sneaks off, even if I scold her," Lena said lightly as she led Tristan toward the expanse of hills and forest beyond the fort.
Rosheen had been lying on her back in the tall grass of rise nearest the fort, when she heard foot steps approaching her position. Rosheen was about to pop up and make a run for it when she heard a familiar lilt. "Don't go running off. I'm not going to hurt you," Tristan found himself saying that same line to his daughter yet again. He watched as Rosheen rose slowly from the tall grass. Even standing, the small redhead was still only barely taller than the grass itself. Tristan smiled when he saw the grass wreath around the child's head. Several pieces of grass were braided together making almost a halo around Rosheen's small head.
"You…are you…" she fumbled as she looked at Tristan with wide eyes. Tristan had forgotten that Cassia still wore his cloak, and therefore his face was free to be seen by any who wished it. He could see the recognition in the small girl's large green eyes as she watched him approach her. Tristan didn't say a word, but he nodded to her unformed question as he slowly knelt before her. Without a word or any indication that she understood, she flung herself into his arms with as much speed as her small body could muster.
Tristan fell over, not expecting the child to be so accepting or passionate. He carefully cradled her as she squeezed him as hard as she could. "You're really my daddy," she said more than asked as she looked up at the dark scout. "You didn't show your face because you wanted to surprise me, right," she rambled, completely oblivious to the fact that Tristan had planned on leaving her behind.
Tristan stroked Rosheen's wild hair gently as he smiled at the fact that she was no longer afraid of him. "Yes, I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered lovingly as their eyes met for the first time in nearly five years. Her large green orbs and his deep brown one's did all the speaking that neither ever could. They sat for a long time with Tristan holding his lost child on his chest just enjoying the feeling of love he hadn't experienced in so long. After what seemed like only a moment but in reality had been sufficiently longer, Tristan sat up with Rosheen still in his arms. "Aunt Lena is packing your things so that you can come home with me. That is, only if you want to," Tristan growled hoping that she would agree. Now that he had her in his arms, he didn't wish to let her go.
"You want me," she said in disbelief. Tristan felt his heart wrench when she said that and found himself placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose as he had done when she was an infant. Rosheen giggled and wiped at her nose before returning the gesture. Tristan felt overjoyed and awkward at the bond they already shared, but nothing mattered except the feel of his daughter in his weary arms.
"Of course I want you. No one is going to take you away from me again," he whispered in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. "Now let's go get you cleaned up before our big journey," Tristan said as he slowly stood and began to make his way back to the fort with the small girl still clinging to his chest.
As the pair walked through the crowded fort, Tristan could hear the whispers loudly, as though they screamed their insults and accusations direction in his face. He knew that the reception would be just as accusatory at their own fort, but at least there the people respected or feared him enough to keep quiet. As they neared the inn, Rosheen curled into Tristan's chest even tighter. Tristan looked down and smirked, before he noticed Darius standing with a group of soldiers just outside the tavern. Tristan held the young girl closer and entered the inn without so much as a word.
Galahad sat on a bench in the main hall of the inn stringing his Sarmatian bow. As Tristan entered Galahad barely looked up, knowing that he was in little danger. When he heard a soft giggle and a sweet a honey voice, however, he looked up. "Who is he daddy," a small redhead asked innocently from her place in the embrace of Tristan's arms.
"Galahad, a brother to me," Tristan whispered softly to the young girl. Galahad's jaw fell to the floor and it nearly got up and left, he was so shocked when the girl called Tristan, of all people, "daddy."
"Tristan, who is this," Galahad stammered as he looked at the small girl who couldn't have been over four or five summers.
"I'm Rosheen," the small child announced proudly. "Daddy said that I get to go home with you, Uncle Galahad," Rosheen said gleefully. Galahad's jaw dropped once again as he heard the endearment come from the girl. Tristan couldn't help but smirk at the surprise written plainly all over Galahad's face.
"I will explain it all later, Galahad, but she is my daughter from when I served here," Tristan explained calmly as Rosheen began to squirm in his arms, wanting to be let down. Tristan obliged and Rosheen hurried over to see what her new friend was doing, as Tristan watched her with the intensity of an over-protective father. Galahad would have laughed at the expression on his brother's face had he not been in such shock at the sudden change. Before either man realized it, Rosheen was playing with the bow that had been in Galahad's hands. Tristan looked down at his daughter and smiled. "Can you watch her for a moment," Tristan asked hesitantly, not really wishing to leave her at the moment. Galahad nodded dutifully, and Tristan gave him a sharp look before disappearing down the hall.
Minutes later Tristan returned to find Rosheen sleeping on the bench next to the youngest knight, while Galahad finished stringing and tightening his bow. Tristan inwardly smiled knowing that Rosheen had slept very little the night before, judging by the fact that she had joined him in the cemetery near midnight. Tristan silently lifted the slumbering Rosheen into his arms while Galahad spoke softly. "She's one of Arthur's angels, isn't she?"
"She's her mother in every way," Tristan said sadly as he carried his charge to his humble room. He laid her small frame on the cot and waited for her to wake. He had a bath waiting, but he was far from the paternal type that knew exactly what to do with children. He just prayed that she was not opposed to baths, and that she didn't make things any more awkward for the taciturn scout. Watching her small chest rise and fall lulled Tristan into a calm mood that was only broken when a loud knock was heard on the door. Before Tristan could say anything, Dagonet entered the room carrying a bundle of clean cloths and jars of salve.
When Dagonet looked up he stopped dead in his tracks staring at the slight form on the cot which the scout sat beside protectively. Dag silently placed his bundle on a table and went to look at the young girl who was waking from her slumber at the sudden intrusion. "Is this her," the large but gentle knight asked as he watched her stretch and yawn.
"Who are you," Rosheen asked with enthusiasm equal to her first encounter with one of Tristan's comrades, completely uninhibited by the remnants of sleep in her mind. Once again Tristan explained who her new acquaintance was, and Rosheen sat fascinated with Dag for many minutes. When Rosheen looked to be dozing off again, Dagonet spoke to the scout.
"I came to look at your injuries. You had a fever when we set out, and it doesn't look to have gotten any better," Dagonet informed the scout as he noticed the sickly flush in Tristan's normally dark skin. At Dagonet's words, Tristan finally felt his adventures catching up with him. His injuries began to scream again, his head swam, and he could feel the heat emanating from his skin.
"I'll be fine, Dag, I can take care of my own injuries once I get Rosheen cleaned up," Tristan protested. Dagonet sighed, knowing that the scout wouldn't accept any treatment until his charge was taken care of. Dagonet nodded, frustrated at the scout's stubborn nature and left the room as quietly as he had come. Dag, however, was not as easily cowed as Tristan would have like. Dagonet went straight to Cassia's chambers only to find the feisty roman slave exiting in a new dress green dress and cleaner visage. "Cassia," Dagonet called with a smile and was nearly knocked over by Cassia's enthusiastic embrace.
"I thought I would never see you again," Cassia said into the large knight's chest as she continued to hug him. "You've always been there for me, and I love you," she whispered. Dagonet was taken aback by her uncharacteristic affection. "I know I sound out of my mind, but I'm allowed to. I nearly died today," she said as she sensed his questioning look more than saw it.
Dagonet chuckled at her bluntness. "You do not have to explain any affection you are willing to give. I am happy to take it without reason," he assured her as he stroked her newly clean hair. Dagonet stepped back and took in what had been filth and rags and not much else just hours before. Cassia looked years younger as she stood in a well fitting dress with her hair hanging in soft curls around her shoulders. Her feet were bare, as usual, and she looked to have regained the life that had been dimming over that past few months. Dagonet couldn't help but feel the sheer joy of life that emanated from the small roman. It seemed that the entire experience had left her loving life even instead of fearing it.
"You look upset, Dag. Can I help you with anything," she asked concernedly as she played with the charm hanging around her wrist. She had been on her way to see Tristan, but if Dag needed her help or just her presence she wasn't going to deny him.
"I have a problem," he admitted slowly and they found themselves speaking conspiratorially in the shadow of the hall, as he told her about Tristan and his stubbornness.
Tristan was beginning to panic when Rosheen woke from her nap. He knew nothing about children, and for the first time in years Tristan felt like he was making a large mistake by accepting the responsibility of this child. "I have a bath for you," he said in a cold whisper. However, when Rosheen heard the word bath, she darted toward the waiting water and jumped in without warning. She didn't even bother to remove her ragged clothes.
"I love baths, but Aunt Lena never gave us real ones like this. I love you daddy," she added with a toothy smile.
"But you need…" just as Tristan was beginning to feel helpless, the door to his chambers opened to reveal a timid looking Cassia.
"I was informed that you had your hands full. I came to do as you wish," she said falling easily back into her roll as slave. She couldn't help but smile, however, when she heard Tristan's defeated sigh.
"You wouldn't by chance be good with children," he asked hopefully. Cassia smiled gently but frowned when she noticed how ragged the scout looked. Cassia had nearly been executed but was otherwise uninjured. Tristan, however, still faced danger if he didn't take care of his injuries.
"Sit down, you're exhausted. I can take care of this," she said authoritatively. Tristan frowned but complied, feeling even worse than when Dagonet had visited. Rosheen was watching the woman carefully from her place in the tub. Cassia walked over to her and spoke softly, "you must be Rosheen. Tristan has told me much about you. I am Cassia… let's see if we can't get you clean." Rosheen smiled at Cassia's words and easily complied when the small brunette helped her remove her tattered and sopping dress.
Tristan watched through half lidded eyes as Cassia bathed his daughter with more love and care than even when she tended his wounds. She couldn't heal, but cleaning was something she was an expert at, and she easily made the transition from clothes to children. Tristan felt his body crumpling to the cot as he watched the pair, but he had little choice in the matter. He had had so many things on his mind before, and the fever and pain took the back burner. However, now that he could relax all of the pain came rushing back.
Cassia glanced up from where her and Rosheen were giggling and cleaning the small girl. When she saw that Tristan had collapsed across the cot, she immediately rose and went to sit beside him. His eyes were still half open, and she could see the fever in them. She gently stroked his hair as she spoke to his semiconscious form. "You are still stubborn, you fool. You have to let Dag see you, or you won't live long enough to see that girl meet her next birthday," Cassia whispered in his ear. Tristan barely nodded, but Cassia knew that he wouldn't protest. She simply raised her head and called for Dag, who had been waiting outside. As Dagonet went to work on the scout, Cassia finished washing Rosheen, who was watching her father worriedly. "I need to find you some clothes," Cassia told her as she wrapped the girl in a large cloth.
"Is daddy going to be alright," Rosheen asked on the brink of tears as she watched Dagonet mix herbs and pact wounds for the scout.
"He'll be fine, honey. He just had an exhausting mission. He'll be fine in a few days," Cassia said as she placed Rosheen on the cot next to the ill Tristan before hurrying out of the room to find the girl some clothes. Dag smiled at how the girl just watched, not interfering with his work. He was actually quite surprised when she removed the cool cloth from the scout's forehead and rewet it in the basin beside the bed, before placing it back on the scout's brow. Dagonet noticed the small hands wrapped around one of Tristan's larger ones and couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She had just met her father, and now she had to watch him struggle through illness.
It was well into the night before Dagonet was satisfied that the scout was going to fine. Cassia had retrieved the others as she searched for garments for Rosheen, and each had been introduced to the lively, but worried, child. At this point, Rosheen lay asleep in Cassia's weary arms, and Cassia lay in Kay's strong embrace. All of them were gathered in the hall waiting for Dagonet to inform them of the scout's condition. Lancelot was pacing and cursing the stubbornness of the scout, while the others simply waited in silence.
Dagonet came out near midnight with a weary smile on his face. Cassia sat bolt upright when she saw her gentle friend. "His fever broke nearly an hour ago, and he is awake at the moment. He said that Rosheen better be in his room before he passes out from the herbs I gave in, or all of our lives may be in danger," Dag said as his smile broadened at Tristan's protectiveness.
Cassia laughed as she rose and carried Rosheen into the dark room. The others smiled tiredly and began to head toward their own rooms. Dagonet stopped Arthur for a brief moment before his commander could disappear as well. "Arthur, though I don't suggest it, Tristan can probably ride as far as the next fort tomorrow, if you do not wish to stay here another day," Dagonet said grimly.
"I do not wish to push him, but I believe it is for his own good as well as ours that we must leave as soon as possible," Arthur said, and Dagonet nodded his agreement before following Arthur toward their quarters.
Cassia placed Rosheen gently on the bed beside her father, having nowhere else to put the small girl. Both stirred immediately when she did so, but not so much as to wake. Tristan unconsciously pulled Rosheen close to him and Rosheen snuggled close to her father's chest. Cassia had tears in her eyes as she watched the pair silently. Tiredly Cassia found a chair and sat beside them keeping watch as they slept.
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I think that I am shocked more than anyone else will be by the fact that I managed to update today. Thank you to everyone who left those kind reviews. I'm glad that someone is enjoying my work. I hope you enjoyed this very long chapter. I don't know when I will update again because I want this to end but I don't really want to end it. Please continue to tell me what you think. There were a lot of things going on in this chapter, so tell me what you thought of it.