Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the movie. I think made that clear already. (Hehe...)
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Chapter 6: Maybe
"How long till we get there?" Alyna asked Tristan on the fourth night of their journey, after finishing their meal. They had no rest the whole day, wanting to cover more land before dark, and they were all exhausted. All the other knights were already asleep, save her and Tristan.
"If we travel tomorrow the way we have today, we will get there mid-afternoon." He answered, squinting in the darkness. Looking at him, Alyna wondered if he ever went to sleep, judging from how much he took seriously his duty as scout, guarding his comrades.
"Do you ever sleep?" she suddenly asked, making Tristan turn to look at her.
"What is it to you?" he retorted, finding the question impertinent.
"I-I'm sorry." She muttered, averting her gaze from him to the ground.
"How is your arm?" he decided to change the topic. She suddenly remembered the wound she had acquired three days ago. It had opened and bled again that day because of over exertion, instead of being careful not to aggravate it. She did not choose it really, to bear the stinging pain throughout the day, but the situation required it of her. They never stopped; barely giving her time to tend to it or even let Dagonet.
"Dagonet has tended to it, but only after a good deal of scolding." She said good-humouredly.
"Get some rest, then. You'll need it." He said as he turned and resumed his position under the large tree.
"Goodnight." Alyna whispered. Tristan merely looked at her one more time and nodded, without uttering a word. She turned to leave, but once again looked back.
"Tristan? Do you ever think of home?" At this, his dark eyes met hers.
"Why do you ask?" was all he said.
"Maybe because I think often of home. Do you?" she asked again.
"Of home, seldom, of someone I left back there, always." It was a curt reply, and he seemed to speak in riddles, but Alyna understood it clearly the moment the words left his mouth.
"May I inquire as to who this person is?" she asked carefully, knowing she was treading on fragile ground, which could break anytime. Such was Tristan.
"Go to sleep. Do I need to tell you twice?" he said it in a harsh tone, angry at himself at letting something like that slip out.
Alyna was not about to give up. She did not go through all of those cold, chilly nights just to hear him send her away. She did not risk everything only to have him turn his back on her. She went through all the trouble and all the pain to bring him back, alive and well, no less.
"Why don't you wish to tell me? Why do you avoid my question?" she replied, surprised at the calmness of her own voice.
"It is no business of yours and I am not obligated to tell you. Now leave." His eyes were glaring mercilessly at her, and if looks could kill, she would be lying lifeless on the ground by now.
"You're right." She answered, her voice almost at the point of breaking. "It is no business of mine." Without another word, she turned and walked away.
Arthur heard the whole exchange. He could do nothing but stare at Alyna as she slowly pulled the cover up the length of her lithe body and over her head. He knew that at this very moment, tears would be running down her cheeks. Knowing the truth, he felt so helpless to the young woman who had already endured so much pain in life.
His gaze went to his comrade, who was leaning leisurely on the trunk of the tree. Tristan was once again staring at the tattoo on his hand. At this, the Roman commander frowned. Alyna had shown him her own tattoo days before, and telling him the tradition of their tribe. He was surprised at first that Tristan had actually done it. It was only then that he realized that the silent scout was nowhere like this before – indifferent, and aloof. With this new realization came the knowledge that the only thing that took his innocence was being forced into a war he never even had a part in, much more not his own cause. He was sure then that Tristan had also loved.
Sleep did not come that night, only endless tears, and because of this, she was ashamed. She swore to herself the day her mother died that she would no longer cry, and she found it shameful how easily Tristan could make tears run down her face. But he was Tristan – the one and only.
She wondered how he could remain blissfully ignorant of her and of the feelings he evoked within her, especially the pain his harsh words could inflict. But then again, he was Tristan – the mighty hawk.
She knew for sure that her eyes would be puffy, and no one would fail to notice it. At this thought, a rueful chuckle escaped her lips. When had she ever cared less? It really hurt the way Tristan had treated her, when she meant him all the good in the world.
Yet even this could not make her regret her decision of following him here. Any decision she made regarding Tristan she would never regret, because right now, Tristan was her world. Right now, she only lived for him. Her heart beats only for him, and it would continue to do so as long as he remained alive. Because once he has fallen, she too will fall.
It took a lot of willpower to keep his eyes open that night. He would never admit to anyone that he was exhausted and weary. Many thoughts ran through his mind, but what troubled him the most was Helena's question. Did he ever think of home? Of course, he did. But he even thought more of Alyna than the land he had come from, for what would be the use of going back there if he had no one to go back to? This land had been home to him for fifteen years, and he was more familiar of it than the land he had grown up in.
He was furious, not to anyone but himself for letting that small detail slip out. He was never like this before, for he was always careful to keep personal things to himself. He knew that Helena had meant him no harm with asking that question, but it was as if she was prying into things she had no business in.
He had not meant to be harsh on her that night, but it was as if she was tearing down the walls he had built around his heart little by little. It had taken him far too long to make himself numb to any emotion, and he was not about to allow her to destroy it.
Maybe because he had been engaged too long in war that he had forgotten the feeling of love and innocence that he had once had and cherished. Maybe because he had been hurting for too long that he was pushing anyone who tried to help him away. Maybe because he had been away for too long from his homeland and from Alyna that he had forgotten how to love. Maybe because he had been under someone's rule for too long that he had forgotten how it felt to be free. And maybe, he had already suffered enough that he was afraid to confide in other people lest they should betray him.
All these were true, except for one. In all truth, Tristan had not forgotten how to love, for up until this day, he still loved her the way he had fifteen years ago. He never faltered in his love for her, yet he could not see it. He only remained alive because of the thought that if he ever saw this mission through, he would be able to see her again. He only lived for her, and her alone. He did not live for Sarmatia, he did not even live for his comrades. It was Alyna who kept him alive and strong. It was Alyna who kept his heart beating.
But even thoughts of his beloved raven could not keep him from drifting off into sleep.
They lived for each other, yet they did not know it. For Alyna, it hurt being near the one you love yet not being sure if he still loved you back. It wasn't the fact that Tristan had sent her away. It was because of what he had become. His life of warfare had hardened his heart, which even she could not find a way to penetrate. He was not the Tristan she had known before, but still, her love for him did not lessen. Her heart only ached for him, that he had been made to suffer for a cause not his own.
"I see that you did not sleep well last night." Galahad stated as they prepared to leave. It had not occurred to him that she had cried last night, for he saw no reason that would have made her do so.
"My arm hurt and I could barely sleep with the pain." She lied through her teeth.
Arthur watched her from afar, studying her intently. He was the only one who knew the real reason as to why her eyes were puffy and that she seemed exhausted when they all got a good sleep last night.
Galahad's statement caught Tristan's attention and his gaze went to her. True enough, her eyes were puffy and she seemed a little pale and weary. No, lack of sleep was not the reason why she looked so weak that morning. She had cried, he was sure, but he did not mention it, for he did not know why she did so. He frowned and went back to strapping on his weapons. Could it have been their little exchange last night? He had noticed the unsteadiness in her voice last night, but he decided to brush it off. Only now, he was feeling guilty over something he wasn't even sure of.
For the first time, Tristan was unaware of Alyna's intense gaze on him, pain written clearly in her eyes.
AN: There! That concludes chapter 6. Thanks for the reviews in the previous chapter. Anyway, please review this one also. I love reviews. Such wonderful things!!!