Disclaimer: I am poor and own nothing. And because I'm poor, this is my only source of entertainment, so please do not sue.
Authors Note: This story is dedicated to Tracy137.
LANCELOTTRISTANBABY – Oh good, I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I just wasn't sure about it. Hope you like this one as well. And don't worry; he'll get what's coming to him.
Lucillaq – Yeah, that part with him and the Roman soldiers in chapter 3 was away from the Knights. Glad you liked it.
Tracy137 – I love Tristan too so it's okay. And I never tire of hearing praise. Well, never fear cause Cornell is not going to try and kill her, although I can't say the same for her and Tristan and him. But if I did, you'd hit me so, yeah. And no need to be nicer to Galahad. I'm sure him being non-whiny won't last and I'll have to start with the bashing as well. Yay. And Gawain had to be a sweetie. I mean, just look at him. Thank you once again for your support, encouragement, and noticing of my research. This is the first story that I've ever really done that for so I was proud of the fact. Hope you like this chapter as much.
Op – Don't worry so much. I liked your idea of them both killing him too much to just throw it out like that. Besides, I'm not sure if I'm done making people hate him yet. Hope you like this chapter.
Dw – Glad you like it and hope you continue to do so. I want them to be kinda similar, but not completely the same.
Texasgrrl – Wow, you look familiar! LOL. You're the only person to review both this story and my X-Men stuff, so I thank you for that. I don't think it's my best either and am considering revising it. Tristan was the best knight wasn't he?
Lunawolf – How can you not love Cornell? Sorry, couldn't resist the sarcasm. I hate the prick and I created his sorry ass. Oh well. Don't worry he will die. And he is the best knight isn't he? I must agree with you on the carnage part. I really didn't notice him until he started hacking through the Woads in the first battle scene, after he dismounted, and I was like, hello. He's like a well-oiled machine and it's so gorgeous. (I also tend to go for the dark mysterious ones who are good with a blade…go figure). And rambling is perfectly acceptable. Hope you like this chapter as well.
Evenstar-mor2004 – Don't know that I'd say it was an understatement. I go through periods of obsession, and when I started posting here, I was back into my X-Men one, so hence all the stories. I have a lot more that just aren't posted anywhere. And right now, King Arthur is taking the top of the obsession list. I do love your ideas of how Tristan should handle Cornell. Very creative and my hats off to you. If you don't mind, I may incorporate them into his future punishment and death. Glad you seem to be liking it so far, hope you continue to do so.
Gondorian Archer – You know, I haven't completely decided what he'll do yet. I have three ideas in my mind right now and it's all down to picking the best one. But I am open to suggestions if you have any.
FlamezBlaze1 – Thank you so much for your review. It made me smile.
banatic66 – Thank you.
Chapter Five: Getting to Know Each Other
In all his years commanding, Julies had never seen anything like Arthur's silent scout, who now sat calmly apart from the men cleaning his sword. He had been true to his word and as soon as Julies and his men had heard the sounds of battle, they had turned to aid the knight, expecting to come upon him dead.
But he had stood in the middle of the clearing he had chose to attack in, his blade drawn as he moved rhythmically through the attacking men. Each strike he delivered was precise and deadly. Julies had quickly went in with his own soldiers to aid him, and six of Julies very best men had fallen that day, but the task was done. The band would plague the village no more. And they were done two days ahead of schedule.
Tristan, it appeared, had managed to pick off the archers from the trees before moving in for hand to hand. All the remaining men of the Roman battalion watched him now from a distance, awe clear on their faces, as he paid them no heed. Julies decided that he had remained silent long enough and stepped forward.
"What you did back there," he said, stopping before the scout who merely glanced at him over his now sparkling blade, "was like nothing I have ever seen."
Tristan placed the blade over his knee and looked up at the commander, boring into him with his chocolate brown eyes, his face emotionless.
"Yes, um, well done," Julies said becoming nervous at being watched so closely. "Arthur is lucky to have you serving under him."
Tristan still said nothing, but continued to stare at the man. Finally, Julies had had all he could stand and walked away, back to his men. A loud screeching sounded in the air above and Tristan let out a short whistle, holding out his arm for his hawk.
"Were ya been eh?" he asked, stroking the creature's feathers affectionately.
The men all watched him for a moment before Julies second in command spoke up. "When will we be returning to the fort sir?"
"I expect to be there just after nightfall tomorrow," he replied confidently, looking at his men. "You all did well today," he praised them a bit before glancing back towards Tristan, who was still stroking the birds feathers. The sooner the scout was back with his own commander, the better. The silent man unnerved him greatly.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
The knights were all in shock at what they had heard and even more so once she had relayed the story of exactly how she came to be in Marius's dungeon and some of the atrocities that had been committed against her there. By the end, Vanora was huddled against Bors, crying quietly while all the knights sat, rage flowing off them.
"Arthur we should go there now and kill that bloody bastard!" Bors growled, slamming his fist against the table, Vanora nodding emphatically.
"Is this how your Roman men of God treat women?" Lancelot growled, glaring at Arthur.
Arthur looked down sadly, unsure of how to answer him.
"It's not his fault," Roxana said, her voice sounding better than it had before, looking at the men around her, all of them reminding her so much of her husband and father. "And that Roman pig may be a Roman and he may even be a Christian, but he was not of any God."
"But this…how can you be so calm after all of this?" Galahad asked, trying to grasp all the new information he had learned.
Roxana merely shrugged. "What good would it do to be otherwise? His death will come in due time, as it always does. Right now my main concern is Cornell, and what exactly he has been telling my husband," she stated, reminding them all so much of Tristan in that moment.
"He has not said," Dag spoke up. "But he has been more, detached since Cornell's arrival."
"I see, then it is most likely as I feared," Roxana sighed and tucked a stray black strand behind her ear. "He thinks I am dead."
"Well, he'll find out otherwise when he gets back. And I pity that dafted git should Tristan ever set eyes on him again," Bors growled. "Or any of us for that matter."
Roxana smiled towards Bors. "I thank you for your allegiance to my husband. I am proud that he has you to call friend," she bowed her head slightly earning a grin from the large knight. "But this is our battle, and I doubt he would take it any kinder than I if you got to Cornell before we did." Her face clouded over for a moment as thoughts of what she would do to Cornell played across her mind. They were all violent, gruesome deaths, but none more so than the one she and Tristan could inflict together. They had always worked well with one another. Another thought suddenly passed across her mind and she looked up at Arthur. "Tell me, when is he due back?"
"Three days at least. One of the Roman battalions has gone after a band of Woads that has been plaguing a village farther down the wall and required his services," Arthur answered. He had wondered why they did not order him and his knights to go before, but now he seemed to understand why. If they had all gone, no one would have been here to help Roxana, once again proving God worked in mysterious ways.
"But knowing Tristan, it won't take that long," Lancelot said, grinning.
Roxana nodded slowly. "I hope that it does. Longer in fact."
"Why's that Ana?" Vanora asked moving from Bors lap to sit next to her new friend. "Don't you want to see him?"
"More than you will ever understand Van," Roxana smiled at the woman and took her hand. Only family and close friends were ever allowed to call her Ana and she felt honored to let Vanora do so. "But he cannot see me like this," she looked down at her broken arm. "I am a disgrace like this," her voice was hardly a whisper, and half the knights expected it to be filled with tears, but it was not.
"How can you say that wench?" Bors asked glaring at her and leaning forward on the table. "You bare a warriors scars same as us, no more." The tone of his voice left no room for argument and Roxana couldn't help but smile.
"I would like to thank you for your kindness and your words, but I fear I do not yet know your names," she smiled.
"Forgive me Roxana where are my manners," Arthur said, blushing slightly at his forgetfulness. "I am Arthur, that is Lancelot, Bors, and the ones who found you near the graves are Gawain and Galahad. And I believe you already know Dagonet."
"That I do," she smiled at the large knight before nodding at each of them in turn. "I am glad to know you," she rose slowly, still unsteady on her feet. "Now you must forgive me, but I am rather tired. It grows late and it was a long journey here and my injuries are a bit of a bother." They all knew that was an understatement, but admired the girl's defiance against the pain she must be in.
"Of course," Arthur said, "Vanora, can you prepare her a room?"
"Actually," Roxana interrupted. "I would like to sleep in my husbands, if it is not too much trouble."
"Of course," Arthur said smiling softly at her. "I will take you there personally," he moved around and offered her his arm in escort.
"Thank you," she said kindly, giving Vanora a quick hug before turning back to Arthur. "But the support is really unnecessary."
"No support intended lady. But what would Tristan say if I let you walk around this fort unattended, with all the soldiers thinking you were available?" Arthur asked good naturedly, smirking down at the girl.
"Oh yes, and I look so appealing at this moment," she laughed for the first time in over three months, and to the knights it was a beautiful sound, taking his arm and turning to the others. "I will see you on the marrow then?"
"Of course," Gawain stated, all the other knights nodding in agreement.
"Sleep well lass," Bors smiled at her.
"You know Bors, I think tonight I may, she replied, letting Arthur lead her towards Tristan's room.
They walked in silence for the most part, each preoccupied by their own thoughts. Arthur wondering how anyone could treat a fellow human being the way that Roxana had obviously been treated. Roxana wondering if his room would still smell like him.
They made it to the room without incident; however, she did notice the looks the people at the fort gave her as they passed. They were of disgust, pity and fear, and all made her hold her head just a little higher in defiance.
They stopped before a door on the second floor, at the very end of the passage way and Arthur gave her a smile. "Here we are," he said, turning the handle and pushing the door open for her.
"Thank you," she said, standing on her tiptoes enough to kiss his cheek. "Good night," as she went to enter his words stopped her.
"Do you hate me lady?"
"Why?" she eyed him curiously.
"Because I am Roman."
She stepped forward and placed her hand on his cheek, looking up into his green eyes. "You may have been born to a Roman and a Britain, but I have heard the stories. You are Sarmatian at heart," she patted his cheek comfortingly before turning to go again.
"Do you hate Rome?"
She paused and did not look at him, but when she spoke her voice was clear and full of emotion. "Aye, but not for what you think," she paused and turned to face him. "I hated them long before this. The day they took him from me, I hated them, and perhaps I always will. Good night Arthur," she said as she closed the door behind her.
She looked around slowly, gaining her bearings in the dark room, the only light coming from the full moon outside the window. Her head throbbed in pain and the light in the meeting room had hurt her eyes, so she chose to not light a candle or a fire as she began to move around the room, getting a feel for everything. On a chair near the bed she found one of his shirts and picked it up, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. It still smelled of him, woodsy and natural. Just like home. Slowly she placed it down and began to undress, pulling at the laces of the gown she wore. She finally managed to slip it off, with no help from her injured hand, and pulled his shirt over her head, breathing it in once more before going over to the bed and sitting down.
She felt along the wrist and let out a painful hiss. Broken, that was sure. Next she felt her ribs, finding four out of place. Lifting the shirt she struggled to examine the bruises forming. "That's what I get for falling from a horse," she muttered, pulling it back down and going over her other wounds. Her arms and legs were covered with scratches from both knives and human fingernails, and her face had a large, stitched gash across the forehead. Feeling around her eyes she noticed the puffiness that came with bruising, and touched her nose tenderly. It was sore, but she could tell it was not broken and heaved a sigh of relief. That was the last pain she needed at this point.
Sighing she rose, and pulled back the covers, climbing between them. It had been so long since she had had proper bedding to sleep in. The dungeon had merely had a pile of hay in the corner, and she left it for the children that had shared it with her for a time. Slowly she eased her head down onto the pillow, breathing in his scent and a small smile painfully graced her lips. Tonight, she could smell him and almost feel his arms around her. Tonight, for the first time in fifteen years, she slept well.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
"Is this where you train?" Roxana asked, her voice startling Galahad to the point that he let out a squeal and fell off the fence railing he sat on into a pile of hay. This caused the remaining knights to burst into a ruckus fit of laughter, and Roxana to smirk slightly. "Did I frighten you?" she asked innocently.
It was the early the next day and Arthur had decided that it was too nice a day to not do some sparing. Roxana, it had been assumed, was still resting in Tristan's room, and it was a shock when she came unheard upon them.
"Bloody hell woman make some noise!" Galahad cursed, leaping up and brushing himself off.
"Why? When my way is so much more fun," Roxana grinned, coming around the fence and hoping up, rather painfully, next to Gawain, who automatically put a hand out to steady her. She nodded her thanks before looking back at the youngest knight who had continued to rant.
"Bleeding witch, your as bad as your husband," he muttered, going to sulk next to Dag.
"Forgive Galahad, for that is his happy face," Gawain grinned.
"I take it he makes it often then?" Roxana said mildly.
"Well he is a rather good target," Lancelot said, twirling his twin blades in his hands. "And how is your arm today malady?" he asked somewhat flirtatiously, as was his way.
"May the Gods have pity on you for I shall live," Roxana teased, feeling slightly better than she had the day before. A good nights rest had revitalized her, and encouraged her body to heal. And although her face was still bruised, it was not nearly as puffy, making smiling and seeing much easier. She paused for a moment, looking at her hand. "I do wish the wrappings were not so large though. Last time I cut it off by the third day and my mother was very cross."
"You have broken it before?" Dag asked, heaving his ax over his shoulder.
"Aye, when I was nine. I fell from a tree and landed wrong. Everyone was sure that I had broken my neck, but it was merely my wrist. That is why it snapped so easily this time I suppose," she mused lightly, wondering if it would be too soon to cut the bandages off now, and glancing over at Dag, who was looking at her sternly, decided against it. "It was just awful because I could not practice or ride or anything for six weeks."
"What did you do?" Arthur asked, curious as he looked closely at her. She was too thin, he decided, but he assumed that had been from her time in the prison, which could also attribute to her pale skin. The way she moved however told them all she was not one to be idle. Even as she sat against the rail in the thick red dress Vanora had given her, her feet swung back and forth, hitting the fence beneath her, and her rich blue eyes darted everywhere, taking in all around her. Her long black hair kept falling into her face and she kept blowing it from her eyes, casting it annoyed glances, much as Gawain did from time to time.
"Tristan kept me company," she smiled at the memory. "After training he would take me out into the meadow and we would lay on the ground, making pictures of the clouds." She said. Upon noticing their doubting looks she continued. "Well, I would make pictures of the clouds, he mostly just watched with me."
"You love him a great deal do you not?" Lancelot asked, coming to lean next to her.
"Oh yes, very much," her voice was far off as she spoke. "He was never like the other boys, they were more like you," she said to the dark knight, who looked at her confusedly.
"How so?" he asked, the others gathering around her now.
"Flirts," she smiled. "And do not try and deny it, Vanora has told me much about you all this morning, and I can tell by the way you carry yourself. Confident, as if no woman can say no to you. That's how most of the boys of our village were. How Cornell was," she spat out the name as if it were the deadliest of venoms before continuing. "Not Tristan though. He did not use flirting or flattery, merely honesty. He may not speak much, but every word that leaves his lips is honest to no end."
"That it is," Gawain agreed.
"So how did you two end up together?" Bors asked, always looking for a good story and since he already knew the one of him and Van, this one sounded promising.
"My mother and his are very close friends. So when we were children we were always together, and since he was to be a knight one day, my mother decided his mission would be to guard me while I slept in my cradle. And Tristan has never been one to turn down a mission. As we grew, the other children feared him more and more because he was so silent, like his father, and so tough. At seven he was the deadliest boy with a bow, and known for his ability with his daggers. And he killed a man. A raiding party attacked us and he was protecting me and my sister. This earned him a great amount of respect among our tribe. He was the youngest in many years to receive his war tattoo.
"However, it can be lonely as well, when the other children do not come near you for fear of inciting your wrath. So when the others played, he was often not asked, unless of course he was standing there when the game was formed. No one ever sought him out. So I kept him company. I remember how the other girls chided me for it but I cared not. We were always together and before I knew it, it was as if we could speak without words.
"As we grew, the other girls began to notice him more and more, and how handsome he had become. And the boys began to notice me. Bringing me flowers, trying to best each other in hopes of impressing me. Showing off on the hunt. But not Tristan. He would merely look at me, and his look spoke volumes. I knew I loved him when we were children, and he merely stood behind me as I fought with one of the older boys, letting me handle the battle on my own, but telling me with his presence that I was not alone. I knew he loved me in return when I had just turned fourteen and he approached me one day, not in front of a crowd as the other boys did, but while I was alone with my sisters, handing me the most beautiful flower I had ever seen. Only one. And when I asked him why he was giving it to me he merely shrugged and said, it reminded me of you, and walked away," her voice trailed off and she smiled at the memory, her eyes staring off into the distance and another time.
"What did you do?" Galahad asked, enthralled as the rest of the knights, none aware that the Scout could be so thoughtful or caring.
"I beat three separate girls who had their eyes on him and killed a man so that I could marry him before that winter," she grinned down at him.
Suddenly a loud screaming sounded from the gates of the training area and three boys ran in, tackling Bors to the ground.
"Father, father!" they called, as the large knight allowed them to knock him to the ground, pretending they had bested him.
"What is this?" he yelled out, wrestling with his three eldest boys. "What do you want my bastards?"
"Mother says to tell you and the others to come. Lunch is prepared," the smallest one giggled as his father rose, all of them clinging to him and hanging off his arms.
"Good, I'm ravished," Bors stated, heading towards the tavern, dragging his boys with him.
"Shall you join us lady?" Lancelot asked, moving to help Roxana from the fence.
"On the condition that you stop calling me Lady. It is Roxana or Ana, but not lady," she grinned, swatting away his hands and jumping down lightly, bracing herself on the fence and gritting her teeth in the sudden pain in her ribs. She took a slow breath and straightened, smiling at them all before walking to follow Bors.
"How many children does he have?" She asked Gawain after a moment, remember the six that had been with Vanora that morning, and now these three.
"Eleven," the blonde haired night replied grinning.
"My word poor Vanora. And her husband makes twelve I'd wager," Roxana shook her head slowly.
"How very true," Gawain agreed chuckling. "Tell me, do you think you and Tristan will have any now that he will be free?"
"I know not. We had a son, so it would not surprise me if we had more," Roxana replied, a slight sadness to her tone.
"Where is he?" Galahad asked curiously.
"Dead," Roxana replied evenly. "He was four moons old and died of the sleeping sickness," she stated, looking straight ahead.
"I am sorry to hear that," Gawain said, placing a comforting arm on her shoulder.
"Thank you, but it was long ago. And while we had him, he was the sunshine of our lives," she smiled.
"What was his name?" Galahad asked curiously.
"Cadogan, it means glory in battle," she smiled a little. "Our fathers named him."
"And your name, what does it mean?" Lancelot asked with a smirk.
"Dawn. Although I do not understand it," she smiled at them, "I have always been told that when I smile, it can brighten the room like a new dawn."
"And did Tristan tell you this?" Galahad asked skeptically.
"No. He agreed with it when it was said, but it was my father who told me," she smiled thinking about the boisterous man back home, who was rather similar to Bors. "He served under your father Arthur and always spoke highly of him."
"And who was your father?" Arthur asked, a new pride in his voice at hearing kind words of his father.
"Brachus," she smiled, as all the knights exchanged a grin. "And yes, before you ask, he did spit at the feet of the Roman Bishop and vow to have only daughters when his freedom was granted."
"Did he keep his word then?" Lancelot asked.
"Yes. I am the second eldest of three girls. And he was more than pleased to not have sons," she smiled. "He treated us all like them anyway."
"Come Ana, you must tell us more of Tristan while growing up," Galahad stated as they entered the tavern, sitting at their table.
"Why, so you can use them to poke fun at him?" she teased, sitting next to Dag, having to lean on him slightly as she did so. "And lose your head?"
"No, it is just, sad to say, we know very little about him," Arthur stated.
She pondered what they said for a moment with a grim smile. That was so very much like her Tristan. She sighed before looking at them. "I'm sorry, but as it is I tread thin ice when he returns for telling you what I have. For the rest, you will have to go to him," she grinned at their disappointment.
Suddenly Lancelot brightened and looked at Bors, slapping him hard in the arm. "Pay up," he stated triumphantly.
"What the bleeding hell are you talking about?" Bors asked, digging into his food.
"The bet. I bet you I would find out his secret and now I have," he indicated Roxana. "So pay up."
"Doesn't count when we all find out together," Bors stated, not looking up from his meat.
"He's right Lancelot," Gawain agreed as they all began digging into their meal, an annoyed look passing over Lancelot's face.
Roxana merely laughed slightly, digging in as well.
Authors Note: Okay, I'm happier with this chapter, so probably no one else will like it. That's usually how it works. Anyway, next chapter will be a night at the tavern and the return of our favorite scout. Let me know what you think.