When Dag awoke hours later, the room was dark. He gently moved on his bed and felt the need to eat gnawing at his insides. Since no one was around he thought he'd try to get up and go find something on his own. He moved his shoulder a little and felt the pain burning deep inside. It hurt but he had felt paid much worse before. He rose a little off his bed and felt a stabbing pain in his left side. He quickly released the tension on his muscles and the pain subsided some. Taking a couple of deep breaths he sat up and almost shouted at the amount of pain he felt. Sweat popped out on his face but he was determined to get up without help from anyone else. He swung one leg over the side and taking another deep breath he swung the other leg over. "This is going to be harder than I thought." He said aloud to the empty room.
He jumped when she spoke. "Then you should ask for help." He had not known anyone was in the room. He heard movement and the lamp beside his bed flickered to life casting a small glow around the room. Fulcinia was standing beside the table looking very much like a ghost in the pale green gown she was now wearing. "I wasn't aware that anyone was here to ask. But since you are, it would be greatly appreciated." She moved to support some of his weight as he stood up but remained in a stooped position. "Would you rather I brought you something to eat or drink or do you need to attend to a personal matter?" She was trying to be delicate but he understood she was referring to the fact that he had not relieved himself for several hours.
He took her hand and although it was much smaller than his he could feel the strength as she clasped his. "No, I just wanted something to eat. My stomach feels as if my throat has been cut." He tried to laugh at his own stupid joke but he found he was holding his breath trying to abate the pain he was feeling. "If you feel me falling, don't try to catch me. I'm afraid we'd both be abed otherwise." She smiled at his reference to the difference in their size and he noticed how pretty her face was without the shadows of fear clouding it. Wanting to keep the contact of holding her hand, but not wanting to hurt her with his weight, he said, "Maybe you'd better just bring me something for now. I'll try to get up a little tomorrow when Bors or somebody comes by. They'll be better equipped to carry me if I keel over." She nodded after a moment and moved to withdraw her hand. He held it a little tighter at first then reluctantly let go. She nodded again and turned to leave. He wasn't sure if the nod meant he was right or if she had caught his reluctance to let her go. Either way, she was not reluctant to come back, he could see it in the way she hurried from the room. She would hurry back. He was sure of it.
Then a thought hit him like a stone. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had returned to the wall from a mission and not thought of Vanora a single time until now. He pondered on this revelation until he heard the door start to open. He looked up to see the woman he'd been thinking about walk through the door. Any other time he would have been pleasantly surprised by her visit, but now he just wanted her to leave before Fulcinia returned and thought she was intruding on them. "Hello, Vanora." He stated simply. She smiled a sad little smile and walked over to his bed. "Dag, when Bors told me what had happened I wanted to see for myself that you were going to be all right. But he said you needed rest more than visitors. I waited until I thought you had rested enough."
He watched her and realized that thoughts of his undying love for her weren't foremost in his mind. He still loved her, but not like he had once thought. He loved her as a friend and mate to his best friend. He would always be there if she should need his help, but he no longer wanted to think of her as he had in the past. How this could be he wasn't sure. It just was. Amidst his thoughts he tried to thank her for her concern, but when she had gone, he wasn't sure exactly what he had said. He hoped he hadn't said anything to make her doubt the truth to his words. He did feel thankful for the concern of his friends. He felt even more thankful that his years of unrequited love were past. For the first time he felt truly free. Free to really love. He was not surprised to find his thoughts going back to Fulcinia.
Was it truly possible to begin to love someone in so short a time? Or, was it more probable that these were feelings conjured up in a troubled sleep brought on by the pain of his wounds? Either way, since she was neither still married nor involved with any other man, he thought she might share some of his feelings. He had watched through hooded eyes while she nursed his wounds. But his experience with women wasn't exactly foolproof. Maybe she just felt sorry for him. This thought did not bring him joy or peace. But he was determined to find out exactly what the Roman woman felt. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for the answer she would give when he asked. If nothing else was certain, that she would not lie to him was.
He was still lying in the same position when she let herself back in a little later. She opened the door and carried in a tray covered with white cloth. She stood for a moment looking at the man lying so still. At first she thought he was asleep but he turned his head and she saw that he had been awake. There were no signs of drowsiness in his gaze. What she saw there startled her. But she had been so mistreated for such a long time that she thought she might have imagined the look. When she looked back he was just looking at the tray she was carrying. She mustered her brightest smile and walked toward the bed.
"The cooks prepared their best for you. It seems you have quite a following amongst the ladies of this fort." She hoped she had managed to portray the light-hearted mood she aimed for, but the half-smile she received in return made her wonder. He had a knowing look about him and it suddenly angered her that she was so transparent. If only he wasn't the first man in her many years of marriage to show kindness, maybe she wouldn't be so quick to let her buried emotions come forth. That's all it was, it had to be all it was. There was no way she could be this unlucky, so as to fall for someone she could not possibly have a hope of a chance with. Could God be so unkind to one of his children? Surely she had suffered enough that she now deserved the happiness she had so longed for.
Dag watched as the emotions passed over Fulcinia's face. First, surprise; with a series of smaller emotions leading finally to anger. The anger surprised him somewhat. What had he done to deserve her anger? All he had meant to do was let her see his feelings for her in his face. He had been too long unable to let his feelings be known. He wasn't young enough to wait any longer. Did she think he was just another knight looking to dally with any female who would let him? He'd have to prove to her he was different than men like Lancelot and even Marius who had dallied quite a bit if Guinnevere and the other peasant women could be believed. She had to see that more than anything he wanted, no, needed a woman who would let him look after her. He wanted someone who would be loyal and true and she had proven if nothing else, she was that.
When Fulcinia made to set the tray across Dag's lap, he took it and set it on the foot of the bed. He took her by the arm and pulled her down to sit beside him on the bed. She made to protest and he laid his fingers gently across her lips. "No, let me speak, dear Fulcinia." With his words, she no longer tried to speak. "I know it has only been a few days since we met, and that I am probably being too forward now." He hesitated for a moment so he could gage her reaction to his words. "But we are no longer children and I fear my time is too short on this earth to play the games of lovers." When she did not move to stop him, his words grew brave. "Do you think this is something you could do? Care for me, I mean?"
Dagonet never took his eyes from hers while he waited for an answer. She finally looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. When she looked back up at him, he saw she had tears glistening in her eyes. He willed himself not to take her in his arms the way he wanted to do. Instead, he just sat there waiting for whatever she might say. "Dagonet, my dear, brave knight. I thought it was just fantasies of an old woman. Dreams that could try to make the reality of my life easier to stand. I never thought you might be feeling some of the same things I do." She gave him a sad, half-smile and reached over to put her hand on his. "If things were different. If times were different." Again she stopped and he wanted to urge her on. But afraid he might say the wrong thing he kept silent and waited for her to continue.
"The only answer I can give is a simple 'yes'. I could love you. But you must know, as I do, that what we could do is often not what we should do. My son needs me and he must continue his journey to Rome. Rome, as beautiful as it is, is not the place for a man such as you. The city would slowly eat you alive, and the politics of the Roman Empire have robbed you of too much of your life for me to ever expect more." When she had finished speaking, he saw a single tear trickle down her cheek. He reached over and gently wiped away the path it had left. Then he leaned closer and quietly whispered, "You know I would try." Taking her hand, he turned it over in his and gently kissed her palm. She let him kiss her hand for a moment, then, pulling it from his grasp, she stood up and reached for the tray. "You should eat before it gets too much colder. You will need your strength for your journey home." The last was said with a measure of sadness. When she had uncovered his food and made sure he had everything he needed, she sat back down, this time at the foot of the bed to keep him company while he ate.
Dag found that after he had taken a couple of bites that his appetite had returned in full force. He tried to eat with a little decorum so as not to disgust the lady watching him. But it was hard not to just stuff the food in and satisfy his hunger. Besides, she seemed to be enjoying watching him eat. There didn't seem to be anything to talk about and he wasn't sure he could talk with so much food crammed into his mouth. Once he looked up at her and tried to smile. She wasn't looking at him, though, just at the woolen blanket covering the bed. He would have liked to know what she was thinking so hard about, but the silence was peaceful and in it he could imagine her answer had been a little different. A little more encouraging.
He hadn't really thought about what a union between them would entail. He had just assumed she would stay with him or go north to his homeland. He hadn't considered he might have to follow her. She was right, he would never be happy in Rome. He hated Romans, all except Arthur, Fulcinia and possibly Alecto. Why they were different he didn't know. They just were. Maybe there were others like them. But from the conversations he had overheard, they would probably be few and far between. Or dead like Arthur's Pelagius. Rome had no time for men who taught ideals different from the ones they embraced. He would surely die there, either by someone's hand or slowly and agonizingly.
When he had finished Fulcinia gathered his tray and empty dishes and bowing slightly she left the room. Dag sat there silently cursing the gods for offering him another chance at love. He decided that it was just not meant to be. He was one of the unlucky people who were meant to experience love from the sidelines always wanting what he could not have. It didn't seem fair after all the men he had seen who had women begging them to love them and all they wanted was a little fun whenever it suited them. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he should not project the image that he was so desperate to love someone. No, that was not the real Dagonet and he refused to change no matter how long he was alone.