She burst out of the freezing salt water with a sharp gasp, brushing her soaked tresses back from her face with a shiver. Branwen opened her eyes to the slightly overcast morning, to the ocean that stretched out into a fine misty horizon. Cool droplets ran down her arms and chest, colored blue by the smudged markings of the night before. Sighing, she rubbed her skin free of the dye, and quickly, it may have been summer but the sea was cold, and she'd never before had the sensation of salt water in her eyes. The rolling waters were beautiful to look at, but she wasn't sure she would ever bathe in them again...
Sinking under again, she let herself remember the night before...a sweetest dream. She had awoken in the forest, in his arms, and though her hair was tangled with rowan and wilted chicory, and though her body was smudged with blue, she'd never before felt as beautiful as when he'd opened his eyes, eyes light blue as a clear morning sky, and smiled at her.
Now, she hurried out of the water and onto the rocks, dismayed that she only had her clothes from the night before to wear, as she put them back on. She hadn't wanted to return to the camp before she'd bathed, though plenty of the other women had. Branwen was shy by nature; she didn't think she could stand it to see the knowing grins and hear jovial (albeit good natured) comments of whoever might see her. But now, she wished she'd braved the morning revelers, with their wine-induced headaches and easy laughter, just to have a warm dress after the sea...
As if he'd heard her thoughts, Gawain was suddenly there, stepping down the narrow path over the rocks to where she stood, and without a word he draped his dark burgundy cloak around her shoulders, smiling softly. Branwen smiled back at him, shyly pulling her wet hair over her shoulder and wringing it dry. She could not break contact with his eyes, fixed on her own, their icy blue meeting her rich dark brown. He took her hand, leading her back up the path.
"You're journeying back towards Avalon today, are you not?" Gawain's voice broke the calming silence, as they walked back to the encampment, Branwen close to his side. She nodded, looking down at her feet as they walked over the dew-speckled grass.
"Yes," She replied quietly, biting her lip. It wasn't like this, usually, from what she had observed, and what she had been told. Usually, there was no pining after Beltane, only contentment...but here they were, side by side, and already her heart was beginning to ache a bit... "We'll be back come spring, perhaps."
"Such a very long time from now." Gawain murmured, as they neared her tent. Branwen stopped and turned to him, to his bright eyes that were suddenly looking down at her with such tenderness. She swallowed a bit, touching his hand for a moment.
"I'm...glad it was you." She whispered, looking down quickly after her assertion. But Gawain lifted her face once more, a sad, rueful kind of smirk crossing his face.
"As am I." He replied, and kissed her softly. Branwen shut her eyes, until the warmth of his lips was replaced with the chilly morning air. She watched as he walked away through the rows of tents, and then shut her eyes tightly, wrapping his cloak close until his scent was all around her...
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We left for Avalon that very morning. Morgaine had told her brother that she would return whenever he should want her council or aid, and he assured her that he would often in the months to come. As for myself, however, I had no idea when I would be asked to travel back with my Lady, when I would see Gawain again...
Of course, it was not the way of things, to pine after a Beltane lover. It made me feel as if I were some silly girl sent to the fires much too young, and I tried my best to banish such feelings. I had hardly known him three days, and I was a priestess of Avalon, above such notions.
And so I was stoic, mounting my horse in my warm priestess cloak and gown, and riding away from the encampment by The Stones with the rest of Arthur's company. Gawain rode beside me, and we spoke often enough, but I kept myself removed. I would not let myself be attached, I simply could not.
But when we parted ways on the road, my company for Avalon, and Arthur's for his fortress, I knew it was too late. My heart was pained, as I turned, to see Gawain watching me leave on the hill behind me. He raised his hand in farewell, and I returned the gesture, and then quickly looked away, lest by some miracle the white hawk could see the tears in my eyes.
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Author's Notes: I'm baaaaaack, and Puerto Rico was fantastic.
Sorry about the delay, between the site having issues (why the hell can't I space?! Now things just look WRONG) and other things, I have neglected this story a bit. But fear not, inspiration springs anew, as I now have my copy of the soundtrack. Oh how I love it.
This chapter and the next will be a bit lacking in action, but interesting none the less. Thank you to all reviewers! More soon