hello all. many many thanks to all who review! sorry for the almost week between updates—camping out for seats to a basketball game was very time consuming and so was school work. here's the next chapter, chapter 9. enjoy!
same warnings & disclaimers apply...
Chapter 9: Another day
He was gone when she woke up. She shook her head—she should have remembered. He had early morning watch. Smiling gleefully to herself, she stretched her sore muscles and reveled in the remembered feel of him against her last night. 'I have loved him more than I ever thought possible,' she thought with a sigh. At the mere thought of their night together, her smile widened and she wished for them to never have to part. Rising from her bed alone, she dressed and set lazily off towards the tavern to get breakfast and prepare for the evening crowds.
"And where've you been—you left last night without word." Falia asked Mirran curiously as she sat down for breakfast.
"Falia! You know better than to ask—" Halaga started.
"Who've you been with?" Falia again asked.
"That's what you ask…" Halaga finished. Mirran smiled a small smile, feeling her cheeks begin to blush.
"Do I spy red cheeks?" Vanora lightheartedly questioned, "that can only mean she was with the man she loves."
"You should know better, Vanora—we don't give our hearts to the knights, even though you obviously have." Halaga said coldly, several of the others girls nodding. Mirran stared blankly at her plate of food, trying to hide her questioning look and forcing her blush away. "We do not give our hearts to the knights. It can only end in heartache, anger, jealousy," Halaga suddenly continued, glaring pointedly at Mirran, "one of them will come to you, whispering honey-sweet words making you the queen of his world, and then take you to his bed, seeing and feeling only you. You wake in the morning and he is gone, but his memory lingers and your heart is with him. But he does not see you when you see him, and not a week later is he worshiping another queen whilst you are nothing," Halaga paused as other barmaids nodded and turned towards Mirran, who glared determinedly back at her, "a weak woman," Halaga's voice lowered, "would believe everything and then find herself broken. That's why we are what we are—we don't give our hearts away." It was only then that Mirran realized she'd done the opposite. She gave her heart away to one man and only then did she give her body away.
"But what if it is true?" Mirran heard herself ask as she saw Halaga's eyes open wide.
"True? True what…love?" Halaga laughed cynically. "Oh please…one man committing himself solely to one woman in 'love' when he's got a whole selection continually available to him?"
"But what of those that don't always take nightly companionship?" Mirran asked pointedly.
"Like Tristan—he rarely ever takes a woman." Cayln said interestedly looking up from her plate of food.
"Only because he scares 'em all away." Falia said as she reached for some bread.
"And those that he does take are always silent about it—never offering anything." Vanora added before taking a bite.
"Why?" Mirran heard herself curiously ask. Vanora shrugged, mouth full.
"It's his wish," Cayln quietly said, catching Mirran and other's attention, "that's what Bella said." She quickly, defensively said.
"He took Isabelle!" Falia and the others intently questioned, eyes wide with shock.
"Before she married…" Cayln said before returning to her food, "so dear Mirran must have graced his bed last night—she's not saying who it was or a word of it." The others nodded content with that and not noticing the pleased small smile cross Mirran's face. The conversation moved away from Tristan and Mirran altogether, much to Mirran's relief—for even though she loved Tristan and had no regrets, she didn't like the idea of everyone thinking it so common.
XXXXX
"Of course, the one morning of the week I have watch on the wall," Gawain stated, "is the coldest, grayest, foggiest, dampest morning of this whole damned dismal winter."
"I can't feel my legs." Galahad said casually.
"Is that all?" Lancelot asked a smirk on his face.
"I wouldn't know—since I can't feel anything!"
"So I could stab you in the leg and you wouldn't know it?" The three of them turned and stared at Tristan who leaned casually against the wall, sharpening his dagger.
"You do, Tristan, and you won't live long enough to pull back your dagger!" Galahad snapped threateningly.
"Galahad," Gawain said calmly, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulders, "Tristan meant nothing by it—merely a jest." But through the pain of the biting cold, Galahad still saw red. Wiping at the tears in his eyes from the bone-chilling winds, he glanced over at Tristan. Galahad had hopes of one day being as cool, calm and collected as Tristan or Gawain, but it never seemed to work for him. But he knew most of it would come with age, for Tristan was a good deal his senior—so the wisdom would come, and the impulsiveness would fade…but Galahad couldn't help but wonder if the imperviousness to cold would come as well, for Tristan showed no visible sign of being cold. Not even the hand that held his sharpening stone was shaking from shivers.
"I almost wonder if you're human sometimes, Tristan." Galahad heard himself say noticing as Tristan simply raised his head, a questioning in his dark eyes.
"Of course he's human." Gawain said, staring at Galahad confusedly.
"He must be," Lancelot added as they saw amusement creep into Tristan's dark eyes, "Mirran loves him." If it hadn't been for his already wind-burned cheeks, the three knights would have been able to see the small embarrassment creep to the stoic knight's cheeks.
"And…?" Galahad pressed fervently, a knowing smile on his face as Gawain simply smiled. Tristan let a barely noticeable smile play across his face as he could find no words befitting a response.
"About time! The heart of our silent scout has finally been pierced." Galahad said sing-song.
"Mirran—almost as stubborn and unreadable as you sometimes," Gawain said smiling, "and there's just something about her…can't quite place it…," he paused shaking his head, "nice choice Tristan." Lancelot and Galahad looked curiously at Gawain—he didn't have feelings for her too did he?
"She has her reasons for keeping details closely guarded." Tristan quietly, suddenly said.
"As do you," Lancelot said understandingly, "as do we all I'm sure." He finished softly as his hand traveled to the wolf pendant about his neck.
"Good morning gents." All four of them turned and saw the smiling face of Mirran who had climbed up to the watch platform armed with four mugs of a steaming brew. "A request from Arthur that you all stay warm, and while the women at the tavern wanted to see to it personally, it was suggested warm broth be brought instead. Magda sends her apologies and wishes she had more to offer….oh gods—how do you stand it up here! That wind is unbearable." Another gust of wind followed the last one and it was only seconds before Mirran started shivering.
"We try not to think about it. Thank you." Lancelot said, welcoming the hot mug.
"Try…." Galahad added glumly, gladly warming his hands around the mug.
"The fog is so thick that watching for attackers and travelers is damned near impossible, so at least that keeps watch challenging." Gawain said before cautiously sipping the steaming brew. Mirran looked over the knight's shoulder over the wall. Not even the ground was visible…no trees, no nothing. The whole fort could be surrounded and they would have no way of knowing. Mirran's eyes traveled lazily to Tristan, her mind instantly flooding with memories from the pervious eve. And from the knowing, loving look in his eyes, she knew he remembered as well.
"Mirran…." Tristan half asked, half-stated, a question forming in his eyes. She knew what he was asking, but her name had rolled off his tongue such that it could also be a greeting. She glanced around quickly and found no reason not to trust the other knights or the surroundings. She stepped around Tristan and stood against the outer edge of the wall. Silently her hands rose up in front of her forehead, where she rubbed them gently together twice before letting them slowly fall back to place. The fog lifted and disappeared. Galahad's mouth dropped open.
'That's what it is." Gawain suddenly said as Mirran came and stood next to Tristan again, feeling his hand wrap gently around hers.
"You should be able to see better now." She softly said.
"Thank you," Tristan said, his voice retaining its usual indifference, his eyes showing a sense of pride, gratitude and affection.
"You're a witch!" Galahad suddenly announced.
"Galahad," Lancelot sternly said, before lightening some, "no need to tell the whole fort."
"Yes, I have magical abilities—limited though they are, but I am far from being a witch," she calmly, quickly explained, "I only use them when the need arises—have no fear."
"And you," Gawain said comfortingly, "have no fear. Your secret is safe with us all." Galahad and Lancelot nodded and a smile of relief and happiness crossed Mirran's face.
"And you already knew?" Lancelot asked with a smirk, looking at Tristan.
"Of course he knows, for one night in the heat of their passion, she let her powers slip and it began to rain indoors." Galahad said jokingly, causing Lancelot and Gawain to snicker, and Mirran's eyes to widen, her mouth to fall open.
"Galahad!" She said in shock, smacking his shoulder.
"So un-lady like Mirran!" Galahad said laughingly, rubbing his right forearm.
"Yes, Tristan has known for some time now," she leaned in closer to Galahad and lowered her voice, "he knew long before I ever shared his bed." Now it was Galahad's turn to be shocked at her actually saying it herself.
"gods, you get more and more un-lady like all the time." He said.
"Well what do you expect when I am around men all the time?" They all could not help but agree and she backed away from them saying her farewells and looking forward to seeing them all, especially Tristan, that evening.
XXXXXXX
Morning became afternoon and Mirran found herself doing the usual chores—mending, washing, preparing food. A combination of peace, contentment and belonging surrounded her for the first time that she could ever remember. And at that moment, she wished nothing would change. But with the passage of time, change inevitably comes.
"Mirran—Arthur and the knights are leaving on a mission." Vanora quickly said a note of worry to her voice before disappearing again. Mirran suddenly rose, forgetting about the mending and followed Vanora and the others towards the stable yards where the knights would be.
"What is the mission?" Mirran casually asked whoever might have been listening.
"A large band of woads have crossed the wall and are wrecking havoc on innocent Romans. Arthur and his men are to ride out and stop them." Magda quickly explained before she stopped at the gate.
"You don't go to say goodbye?" Mirran curiously asked.
"No…I've none to say goodbye to. I'm too old for them. No, I only come to help those back that get so worked up over the knights' leaving—Vanora mainly. Now go—go before he goes." Magda quickly finished, shooing Mirran towards the entrance to the stable yards. Tristan glanced over his shoulder as the knights made ready to depart the fort and met with Mirran's sapphire eyes.
"You know already, I'm sure…." He softly said as she walked over to him, understanding in her eyes.
"Go…I'll still be here when you get back." She said, smiling comfortingly, a promise resonating in her eyes.
"You won't just pack up and leave?" He asked playfully, returning her smile.
"I have no reason to leave—everything I love is here." Immediately he could find no words as his heart swelled and his mind screamed. He held her gaze and shook his head, smiling unbelievably at her.
"How is it you are such a contradiction to me?" He asked, making her start and her eyes fill with surprised curiosity. "Nothing makes me happier then your love, and returning your love. Yet all the while I know the danger associated with attaching yourself too much to me, for I could easily die in battle. My mind would not have you love me, yet my heart yearns for you." She smiled understandingly and brought a hand to his face.
"You underestimate your skills on the battlefield. Many times have you ridden and yet you return still. Nonetheless, I know in my heart I will see you again. Now go…before Arthur burns holes in your head with his eyes," she said, her eyes darting to Arthur who regarded both Tristan and Mirran with unreadable eyes, "and the sooner you leave, the sooner you will return." She smiled hopefully and kissed him gently, quickly as he returned her simple kiss. She backed away from him and watched as he gracefully leapt onto his horse and awaited the order. Mirran glanced around at all the other knights, watching as they each readied to ride onward, possibly to a death, hopefully to a victory, praying to return.
"I see dry eyes Mirran. You must not love us." She bit back her laughter as she turned and glared playfully up at Lancelot.
"Not you Lancelot," his smile dropped to a fake pout, the amusement still evident in his deep chocolate eyes, "Tristan, Gawain, the others, yes—"
"Gawain makes your list?" Lancelot suddenly asked interestedly, his eyes widening.
"He makes the same list as you, my friend," she said, trying to fight back a blush that was creeping to her cheeks for an unknown reason, "be careful." She said, her voice laced with caring as she stroked his horse's neck.
"I will," he said resolutely, "and I'll watch out for Tristan for you." She turned and glanced at Tristan, an involuntary smile playing across her face. He looked as deadly a killer as any of them, a sword and hidden dagger at his side, a bow and numerous arrows slung to the side of his horse.
"No need—he may need to look out for you, however." She said laughingly as she turned back to Lancelot.
"When I get back, milady," he said challengingly, "you shall see that I need no protector."
"Are you sure Lancelot?" She turned again, her smile widening, as she saw Gawain ride up alongside them.
"Even Gawain thinks it wise," Mirran said to Lancelot before turning back to Gawain, "then I entrust him to your care." He laughed softly taking in the look on Lancelot's face and her light laughter. Her eyes met Gawain's and filled with admiration as his filled with questioning.
"And who will look after you?" Gawain asked her knowingly, caringly. She held his gaze determinedly, even though her heart was beginning to falter.
"I think now I am more able to look after myself." She answered, hoping her eyes appeared more confident then she really felt. Although she did know more about how to fight and protect herself, she still felt somewhat vulnerable and had ever since that night. Gawain somewhat doubted her words, but found himself unable to do anything about it at the time and so he smiled hopefully down at her, watching a smile play across her thin face.
"Upon our return." He softly and earnestly said, nodding his head gently to her.
"Upon your return." She responded, holding his gaze, not caring about the suspicious look growing on Lancelot's face.
"Knights…," Arthur suddenly called out, looking at each of the nine knights in turn before smiling a small resolute smile, "we ride!" He reared his horse and took off through the gate of the courtyard, his knights following suite, leaving Mirran and Vanora standing alone in a courtyard, both with anxious smiles and hopeful hearts.
there ya go. hopefully not too mushy/predictable when the knights leave. oh well...review if'n ya want! next chapter will be up Sunday morning-early afternoon-ish (i promise.).
