Dawn broke outside, and disturbed the two sleepers. Bryanne stirred and sighed, smiling at the feel of Lancelot.
"Good morning." He whispered.
"Good morning." She answered, opening her eyes and looking up into the still-sleepy face above her. He smiled groggily, his hand running up the length of her thigh, feeling her skin that seemed as smooth as marble. Bryanne sighed again, running her fingers in tiny circles at the base of his back. "You know…" She paused. "If I were home… this would be celebrated."
"Celebrated?" Lancelot asked mockingly. She shrugged and elbow to prod him in his chest.
"Yes." There was silence.
"How?" Lancelot asked.
"Feasting. Songs. Gifts." Bryanne smiled sleepily, closing her eyes again. He laughed. "What? Why shouldn't there be a celebration?"
"For every time?" He queried.
"No. Just the first."
"Oh, that's good. Because, if it were to be for every time, we'd certainly get very fat." Bryanne laughed with him.
"Oh! So much confidence!"
"Naturally." He twitched his eyebrows and smirked. They fell back into silence. Bryanne moved her head to stare at the ceiling.
"What would you do in Sarmatia?"
"For what?"
"To celebrate." Lancelot frowned; he couldn't remember a time when his village had celebrated. At birth, it was sad if it was a boy, and if it was a girl there was also some bittersweet sorrow that they had not borne a strong son.
"Well, first, we could sacrifice a goat to the heathen Gods, and then drink its blood, take off all our clothes and dance naked around a fire." Bryanne tutted as he chuckled at his own tease. "I don't know what we would do." He said eventually, his voice sober. "I don't remember if there ever was a time to celebrate." Bryanne frowned.
"That's sad."
"I suppose." He answered, shrugging. It had never bothered him before – he had never thought of it. "But, when I return… then there will be celebrations." His mind drifted, and she let it, as she herself tried to imagine what a Sarmatian celebration would be like. Somehow, she found it difficult to picture the faraway land. "You would come with me, of course." Lancelot suddenly added.
"I would?"
"Yes. When I get my freedom, I will take you with me."
"What about Briton?"
"We could visit. We'd build our own ship, sail it from the Black Sea all the way here whenever we wished." Bryanne laughed.
"Sail? You mean, on the sea."
"Yes. How else would you sail?"
"I've never been to the sea. It certainly would be an adventure." She commented slowly, wondering what it would be like leaving Briton and living with Lancelot in Sarmatia.
"Never?"
"Never."
"Ah, then I will show you it someday. It's truly a sight." He laughed. "Just water as far as you can see, moving up and down, with white-tipped waves that lap against the boat. You could go anywhere, see anything, just tip the sail with the wind and let it guide you."
"It sounds magical." Bryanne murmured.
"It is." Lancelot replied, smiling. "Everything is magical if you just want it to be." She laughed, moving one hand up her arm to touch his cheek and look at him fondly.
"You are the strangest man I have ever set eyes upon."
"Have you not met the other knights?" He asked, bewildered. She laughed again and kissed him. He pulled her closer, and they lay there as they watched the sun rise across the floor, lighting up the chair draped with his coat, and her discarded dress, crumpled on the floor. "I suppose we shall have to get up soon." He said as they heard the breakfast bell clang.
"Not yet."
"Yes." He instructed, untangling their legs and arms. "Come on." He rose, urging her up with him. As he reached for his breeches, he looked at her from the corner of his eye. Her bare skin looked all the more tempting in the morning light, as she padded silently towards her dress. Her legs were long, her back smooth and curved, there was a tiny, barely noticeable until she turned sideways, bulge in her stomach from months of good eating, and her breasts were full and voluptuous. She bent and picked up her dress, her bum rounded, and Lancelot turned away, smiling at his fortunes, as he pulled on his breeches and reached for his tunic.
When he turned back to her, she was dressed, and was smoothing the creases with her hands, trying to run her fingers through her hair and flatten it a little. She caught him staring, and looked at him, puzzled.
"What?"
"Nothing. You're just so beautiful." Bryanne laughed.
"Where have I heard that before?" He winked at her, and pushed aside the velvet curtain to let her past.
"I couldn't guess." He replied as she opened the door and peered out. Everyone was at breakfast. "We don't have to go in together." He offered as he saw her hesitation.
"No. I think it might be best if we didn't. Just for now." She looked apologetic, but he didn't mind. He would have suggested it if she hadn't.
