Iraina could only stare out at the field before her. She took a shaky breath, not liking the feeling of fear that had settled into the pit of her stomach. She tried counting the number of fires in front of her, but stopped after reaching one hundred, knowing that there were at least two hundred fires burning brightly into the dark night. And around each of those fires, there were bound to be at least 10 Saxons. The numbers were daunting, and Iraina didn't want to think about what would happen once they breached the wall.
Swiftly, she climbed down from her lookout, and searched the wall for Tristan. As soon as the fires had appeared, he had turned to tell a guard to find the other knights. One by one, they appeared on the wall, each carefully masking their faces as they saw what lay on the other side of the wall.
Lancelot was the last to arrive. Iraina watched as he went to the wall and stared out at the Saxons. He felt her eyes on him and turned, his own dark eyes, meeting her green ones. They stayed that way for a moment, and Iraina could easily read the pain and confusion in his eyes. Then, just as suddenly, it was as though a shutter had slammed over his eyes, and they turned cold. The dark haired knight turned back towards the field, only turning again when Arthur raced up the stairs, Guinevere following him. Iraina turned towards Guinevere as Arthur looked out across the field. Her dress was rumpled, and it was falling off one shoulder. Catching her friend's eye, the woad warrior only raised an eyebrow in question.
Guinevere blushed and looked down at her feet, not wanting to see the smirk that she knew was forming across her friend's face.
Arthur pulled back from the wall, and silently regarded the men who had been his companions and knights for the past 14 years.
"Knights" he said, looking around at the men gathered on the wall. "My journey with you must end." He paused. "May god go with you." With that he turned and headed back down the steps. Lancelot leaned up against the stones for a moment before angrily pushing off and following his commander. Guinevere and Iraina following right behind the two men. As the followed, Iraina could hear every word that the two men said in the cold night. Iraina was amazed. She never realized how deeply the two friends cared for each other. Iraina could only watch as Lancelot was defeated, and he stood beaten in the middle of the crowded street. He glanced at the two women, before stalking off in the direction of the stables, his normally proud shoulders slumped in defeat.
After a moment's hesitation, Iraina followed after the knight who had twice saved her life.
Iraina entered the stables to find that it was almost completely dark, with only one lamp lit to give light. Cautiously she made her way towards the stalls, wondering how anyone could see once they passed the light from the lamp.
"Lancelot?" she called out timidly. Iraina was surprised at the meekness of her voice. When she received no answer, Iraina continued on, thinking to make her way towards Dark Wing's stall. She felt like she could use the comfort of his special horse love at the moment. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, Iraina could barely make out the form of someone sitting outside the stall next to Wing's.
"Lancelot?" she said again, squinting into the darkness. The figure stood, his frame that of the man she had come to care for.
"Iraina?" he said softly, his voice confused.
"I heard you and Arthur." Lancelot was silent for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh.
"I don't know anymore! I had thought that once our term had ended, he would go to Rome, and I back to my homeland, both knowing that the other would be safe. But now, when we were so close to freedom, he has to be the man that I know he is, and try to save the lives of people he doesn't even know!" In the dark, Iraina could barely make out the man's eyes, full of pain, confusion and sorrow. She wished that she could somehow help this man, but she knew in her heart, that his bond of friendship with his commander ran deeper than the simple bonds of comradeship, and she knew that he would have to sort out the pain in his own heart.
"So, you are leaving tomorrow?" she asked casually, as if she didn't care about the answer. Lancelot looked at her and nodded. They stood there in the silence, neither knowing what to say.
"And you are staying?" It was Iraina's turn to look at the man.
"Of course. This is my country, if I don't fight to protect it, who will?" With those words, she shouldered past the knight and moved to her horse's stall. Wings had awakened during their conversation, and was sticking his head out of his stall door. Going up to him, Iraina gently stoked his muzzle, and whispered soft nothings to him. A thought came to her, and she turned back to Lancelot.
"Can I ask you of a final favor?" she asked the man.
"And what favor is that?" Iraina looked at the man, and then back at her horse.
"I have a feeling that I won't be seeing Wings again after this night." she bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. "Would-would you take him with you to Sarmatia? Let him live free upon the grassy plains of your home? The ones you spoke to me about. I would gladly let him go if I could have your word that he would be happy, and allowed to run free."
Lancelot just stared at the woman before him. She had just basically told him that she was not expecting to live through the battle. Lancelot was surpised and a little overwhelmed at the rush of feeling that overcame him at the thought of Iraina lying lifeless on the battlefield, a sword through her heart. Hastily he shook the image away and nodded.
"I will. I promise that he will be well taken care of." Lancelot watched as Iraina's eyes filled with glittering, unshed tears, and she turned back to her horse and buried her face into his neck. The large black horse made noises at her, as if trying to comfort his mistress. Sniffing, Iraina pulled away and turned from the horse, trying hard not to let the knight in front of her see her tears.
Before she could take a step in the direction of the stable doors, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her, while another one grasped her chin in a firm but gentle grip. Iraina stopped and turned to face the knight. He tilted her head up and brought his other hand to her face. With a gentle thumb, he brushed the tears aside, almost starting when she leaned into his touch.
Iraina felt her heart speed up as Lancelot brushed away the tears from her face. Hesitantly, she raised her eyes until she was looking into his brown ones. The hand that had wiped away her tears had moved to caress her face, while the other went down to settle on her waist. Iraina's lips were dry, and she licked them to bring back the moisture. She felt herself leaning towards Lancelot, her heart hammering in her chest. Closer and closer they came, until their lips were only millimeters apart. Finally, Lancelot closed the distance, and Iraina felt his lips on her own. When he pulled away, Iraina felt cold and incomplete. Reaching up, Iraina placed her hand behind his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Suddenly, he was devouring her. His lips crashed against hers as he forced her up against the wall. He ran his tongue over her lips, before slipping it into her mouth. Iraina moaned, deep in the pit of her abdomen, a fire had begun to blaze.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing heavily.
"Lancelot", Iraina began, but he silenced her with another breathtaking kiss. Iraina felt that if he hadn't have pushed her against the wall, she would have melted to the floor. Finally, Lancelot stopped his assault, and pulled away, giving the woad woman her space.
For a moment, they stood in the darkness of the stable, the only sound was of their ragged breathing. At last, Iraina pushed herself from the wall, and stood fully on her own feet. Walking back to Wing's stall, she reached up and started to absently run her fingers through his forelock. She heard Lancelot come up behind, and searched for something, anything, to say.
"Tomorrow you leave for you land. And I stay, to fight for mine." She turned back to the man behind her. "This is probably the last time I am going to see you." Lancelot watched her for a moment, a deep pain settling his heart. He made a quick decision, and placed his hands on her arms.
"Come with me." Iraina gave him a blank look, not understanding his full meaning. "Come with me to Sarmation. Leave with me tomorrow, and be spared from the battle." In his mind, Lancelot had no idea why he was compelled to bring this woman back with him. Never before had he ever felt the need for anything besides release from a woman, and this feeling that was beginning to burn inside him confused him.
Iraina turned her head away, but didn't move from his grip.
"I can't Lancelot." she whispered.
"You can! All you have to do is get on your horse with me tomorrow, and we will ride away from here!" he responded fervently, shaking her slightly. Iraina's gaze snapped back to the knight.
"No! I can't! Lancelot! What can I say to make you understand? This land, this place, is my home! You may be able to turn your back on this land in it's time of peril, but I cannot." With that, she sagged in his arms and whispered. "I cannot, even though I wish that I could." Lancelot heard the pain in her voice and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. Slowly he rocked back and forth, trying to offer what comfort that he could.
As Iraina was cradled in his arms, she idly noticed the fact that she had never felt so safe or peaceful before. Finally she pulled away and smiled sadly at the man.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye. Promise me again that you will take good care of Wings." Lancelot nodded.
"I promise." Iraina started to walk away, but noticed that Lancelot had moved back to sitting against the stall door.
"Don't you have your own rooms?" she asked, just as he laid his head back against the wood. Lancelot opened his eyes again and looked at the woman standing above him.
"I gave up my rooms to Katherine and Loren. They needed them more than I. Besides, normally, whenever I give up my rooms, I usually go and share a room with Arthur, but..."he trailed off, not needing to say anything more about Arthur and Guinevere.
Iraina nodded absently. She herself had planned to go into the forest with Guinevere, to find the woads, and prepare for the battle the next day, but Iraina didn't want to leave without Guinevere, and, for a strange reason, she didn't want to leave Lancelot. Looking around, she saw a ladder going up into the hay lofts. Going quickly over to it, she climbed it, ignoring the stiffness in her leg. When she reached the top, she was glad to find a large pile of hay that wasn't still in the bales. Leaning over the edge, she called to Lancelot.
"I believe good sir, that this hay would be much more comfortable than that stone floor you are sitting on." Lancelot craned his neck until he could see her up at the top of the lofts. He thought she looked beautiful with her hair falling around her face, and a smile lighting her eyes. Getting up off of the floor, Lancelot brushed off his pants and swiftly climbed the ladder to join her. He nodded his thanks to her for giving him the idea, and laid down on the soft hay. He closed his eyes and was about to fall asleep when he felt someone lay down in the hay next to him. Lancelot opened his eyes to find that Iraina had laid down next to him.
Hesitantly, she inched over until she could put her head on his chest. After a moment of amazement at the beautiful woman who had just laid her head on his chest, Lancelot slowly put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
Iraina smiled contentedly as Lancelot put his arm around her, and snuggled more into his chest. He smelled of horse, and leather, and the smell that she had placed as uniquely Lancelot's . Placing her arm over his chest, Iraina closed her eyes, and let sleep come upon her.