(a/n: Ok, sorry this took so long, I had to see the movie again before I wrote anymore. Lol, I saw it today and that made me very happy! Ugh, I also changed the 3rd chpt. A little bit. It sounds better now, but it's still pretty much the same, just a little different wording and basically Adima is a little less resenting of the knights. Lol, so far I've seen the movie 3 times and the last two times, I took notes which was weird, but I kinda had to cuz I can't remember anything. I'm sure y'all really care...lol. Ok, well thanx again for all the reviews. I love 'em! I probably won't post the next chapter for a while cuz I got horse camp this next week but it's only a week long and I'll bring a notebook and a pen so I can write in my spare time. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to bring my CD player which stinks beyond all stinky ness cuz I then I won't be able to listen to my inspiring Celtic music. Darn! Ok, well, enjoy the chapter and plz review!)
Chapter 4: An Emotional Ride
The dim sunlight could barley be seen through the heavy grey clouds in the sky. Light snowflakes began to fall. Adima's feet crunched softly as she walked through the several inches of freshly fallen snow that had fallen the night before.
Adima noticed Tristan mounting onto his horse; he was just who Adima had been searching for. "Tristan," she called to him. Tristan turned his head to look at her. She walked up beside his horse. "Hello, Breul," she patted the horse on his neck. "Tristan," she began in a sweet tone. "I was wondering, could you-" she hesitated a moment, staring at Passebreul. "Could you teach me to ride?"
Tristan looked at her a little stunned; he was not expecting her to ask this. When he didn't answer right away, Adima began to grow more and more nervous. She hated silence. She looked down at the footprints she'd made in the snow and fidgeted with her grey-blue dress.
"I could teach you to ride," Tristan finally said, firmly. Adima smiled at him, glad he finally spoke. She was also glad that he agreed to teach her. "It takes years of practice to learn to ride well," Tristan sighed. "But, I could teach you to stay on with out falling off."
"Well, that would be a nice start," Adima grinned. She couldn't quite tell by the tone of his voice, however, if he was joking or not. She tried to look pleased but it seemed to her that Tristan was just doing this out of guilt for what had happened earlier. She didn't want him to be nice to her because of that-well, not just that. She smiled at the thought of her on a giant strong horse like Passebreul.
"Fine then," Adima scratched the horse's neck, kindly. Tristan watched her, surprised by her will to learn more about horses.
"Fine," Tristan said, holding out his arm as his hawk landed swiftly on it. Passebreul sidestepped slightly, unnerved by the hawk's sudden landing.
"When shall we begin?" Adima asked hoping he wouldn't suddenly change his mind, which it looked like he might do.
"I will be scouting ahead most of the day," Tristan looked straight ahead as his hawk flew over the caravan, startling some serfs as they readied themselves to leave. "When I return, your lesson will begin."
"It's deathly boring, you know," she stared him in the eye, trying to hold him to his words without speaking. "Sitting around all day, traveling in that wagon," she turned her gaze to the wagon where her sister was already sitting down in.
"Is it?" Tristan asked without any emotion. He looked directly in front of him and Adima wasn't sure if he'd even heard a word of what she had just said. She eyed him suspiciously. A little voice in her head told her to scream, 'Saxon' just to get his attention, but she refrained, though smiling at the idea.
Tristan looked down at her to see her smiling, not sure why. Adima tilted her head innocently still pondering the idea and staring off into space. "If you get bored," Tristan offered. "Sleep."
With that, he kicked his horse in the side, and they trotted off forward, ahead of the caravan.
"Sleep?" Adima asked aloud. "Sleeping is boring," she slowly walked back towards the wagon to her sister.
Tristan quickly turned his head around and watched as Adima climbed into the wagon and sat down beside her sister. An unexpected thought crossed his mind. He had something to look forward to at the end of the day.
Scouting ahead of the rest of the caravan, several miles in front of them, Tristan suddenly spoke to his feathered companion that clung tightly to his arm. "What do you think, eh?" he asked with his slightly accented voice.
The hawk turned her head to him at the sound of his voice, but didn't respond. "Should I teach her then?" he smiled. The hawk screeched slightly. "Is that a yes?" Tristan asked suspiciously.
Tristan was a distant man; his aloofness had always been part of his nature. The knights knew him well enough to understand his desire for seclusion, but Adima did not. Adima did annoy him to an extent, but yet, he found he rather enjoyed her company. "She is beautiful," Tristan whispered to his hawk who turned her head to him again. She eyed him, mystified by the soothing sound of his voice.
Passebreul trotted along the snowy path at an even, steady pace. Tristan patted his neck relaxingly with his hand holding the reins. His hawk screeched. "What?" Tristan asked it. "Are you hungry? It was getting rather late in the day. "Go eat," he commanded, raising his arm to the sky. He felt a heavy weight being lifted from his arm as the hawk took flight. She circled him a while before turning away towards the woods to search for dinner.
Tristan looked on as she disappeared from view behind the many tall treetops surrounding him in all directions. He frowned and sighed, still thinking about Adima. He tried to push her out of his mind, but to no avail. Every time he tried to focus on something else, he kept on seeing her face in his mind.
He looked all around the snow path; and around him; it was safe. Arthur and the rest of the caravan should find it not difficult to travel through this land on the next day. He turned Passebreul around, knowing it was getting late and that he should be back to the caravan to report back to Arthur soon.
The sun was about to set by the time he got back to the caravan. A great smile crossed Adima's face when she saw him talking with Arthur at the head of the caravan. She saw Arthur nodding and then Tristan walked his horse slowly towards her. The caravan had already stopped for the night, and Adima was feeling beyond restless.
Gawain and Bors went out into the woods to hunt for dinner.
"You remembered," Adima smiled when Tristan trotted forward to her. Tristan nodded and dismounted, stepping down onto the fresh snow lightly. He held Passebreul's reins tightly in his hand.
He cleared his throat a little nervously. Very few people made Tristan nervous, and Adima was one of them. Perhaps it was due to the effort she put in just to speak with him. Tristan was used to having women like him, and act this way towards him, but Adima was a Woad, something totally different than the other women he'd shrugged off in the past.
Something that scared him was that he felt at peace around her. He barely knew her, but he knew it since their second meeting. He was surprised to see her for the second time and he knew that day, if one of the knights was going to kill her, it would be him, and so he could look at her face one more time. Perhaps this strange feeling within him too was part of his decision to let her go at the end of the first battle where they crossed blades. Normally, he wouldn't have taken pity on her, or let her go. If it were another Woad, he would have killed her instantly, giving her no second chances at life. But it wasn't another Woad he fought that day; it was her.
"What are those?" Adima asked, suddenly breaking the nerving silence between them. Tristan snapped back to reality, emerging from his distant thoughts. Adima pointed to the leather reins Tristan held in his hand.
"Reins," Tristan said quickly. "They, umm," you use them to guide your horse; tell him where to go; or stop if that's what you want him to do. You can also use them to whip your horse, if they're long enough." Tristan held them up closer to Adima, making sure she could see them. "With reins, you'll have better control over your horse." Adima nodded, taking in all that he was saying. Tristan then explained to her the names and uses of the horse's tack and main behavior. Adima listened closely, nodding every now and then to let Tristan know she was hearing what he was saying.
Gawain stood and watched them from the campfire he had set up not far from them. He shook his head wondering what the Woad was getting herself into.
"Now, Tristan began, placing Adima's hand on the horse's reins. "Take these, and I'll help you mount." Adima nodded and took the reins in her hand. "Put your foot in the stirrup-your left foot."
Gawain smiled when he saw Adima having trouble with sticking her foot in the stirrup. The stirrup was high off the ground, and it was hard for her for reach her leg up. She finally slid her foot into the stirrup, and Tristan boosted her other foot upwards. "Now swing that foot around," he instructed sternly. Adima swung her leg around to the horse's other side. Tristan walked behind the horse and to its other side to make sure Adima was able to place her right foot into the right stirrup. He helped push her foot forward into the stirrup.
"Now, when you ride," Tristan held tightly onto the horse's long mane for safety. "You must sit up straight," Adima quickly sat up as straight as possible. "You must keep your heels down," Adima pushed her heels down as far as they would go. Tristan let go of Passebreul's mane and paced around the horse, checking to make sure all his tack was rightly in place. "Keep your hands here," Tristan grabbed Adima's hands and slid them forward, closer to the horse's neck then they had been. "Try to keep your hands still," he let go and backed away.
Adima grew tense with nervousness. She thought she would fall off; she was sure she would. "Maybe you should hold on," she offered shakily. Passebreul took a few steps forward.
Tristan grabbed part of his horse's reins. "Now," he said kindly. "He won't go running off unless he's frightened. "If you insist, I'll hold onto him with you." Adima nodded her head, thinking this was a very good plan. "I'm going to walk him now," Tristan warned. "Hold on tight to the reins, and squeeze with your legs; not to hard, but enough so you'll stay on comfortably."
"This isn't very comfortable," Adima complained, tightening her legs around Passebreul's stomach. A slight grin crossed Tristan's face.
Adima could feel the powerful horse moving beneath her. Slowly, his body began to rise and fall as he took each step. She could feel him breathing heavily with her legs. She reminded herself to sit up straight and fixed her posture to do so.
Tristan guided the horse to walk around in small circles at a slow pace. Adima's body swayed with the horse's every movement and she squeezed her legs tighter afraid she'd fall off. "You won't fall off," Tristan promised her, noticing the tight grip she had on the horse's stomach. Adima loosened her grip a little. Passebreul sighed heavily and snorted. "You're doing fine," Tristan assured her. Adima smiled at this compliment.
Galahad, Lancelot, and Bors came to sit beside Gawain near the fire. Lancelot brought them a dead rabbit to roast on the spit. Dagonet and Lucan soon joined them.
"Not bad for her first ride," Gawain pointed to Adima.
"Has she fallen off yet?" Galahad asked.
"No," Gawain answered.
"She's better than you then," Dagonet smiled. Galahad frowned at his comment. Bors chuckled.
Adima slowly began to relax, feeling more comfortable atop Passebreul. She smiled, proudly at how she was doing. She looked down to meet Tristan's gaze. She smiled and he smiled back. A soft wind blew through her hair, powdering it with light snowflakes. A warm sensation coursed through her body as she smiled down at Tristan. She didn't know what it was, but atop that horse, on that day, that very moment, she was truly happy.
Guinevere walked up to the knights sitting around the small fire. She saw her sister smiling and it brought joy to her heart. She had not seen Adima smile this much in a long time, for her sister had been haunted by the dark cloud of death for many years. Guinevere couldn't help but crack a smile herself. Her sister's happiness was obviously contagious. Guinevere sat down beside Lancelot and joined the others in conversation.
Passebreul's muscles rippled beneath him. Adima tightened her grip on the reins. "Can we go faster?" she asked sweetly.
Tristan shook his head, "I don't think you're ready for that." He looked up at her.
"What if you ride, too?" Adima's sweet tone sounded hopeful. Tristan stopped Passebreul in his tracks and the horse snorted.
"You want me to ride with you?" he asked a little taken back.
Adima nodded," yes, if you would."
"Alright then," Tristan agreed a little apprehensively. "Take your feet out of the stirrups." Adima did as he commanded. Tristan put one foot in the stirrup and held onto the saddle with one hand. Adima watched as he pulled himself up and onto Passebreul's back. He sat behind her.
Adima scooted as far forward as she cou
ld and handed Tristan the reins behind her. Tristan clicked his tongue against his cheek and Passebreul trotted forward. Adima's body jolted slightly behind her at the sudden movement of the horse.
"Oh, what are they doing now?" Gawain asked his friends suspiciously as he stared at Tristan and Adima.
Adima laughed in enjoyment as the horse trotted forward. She squeezed her legs tightly around the horse. "Here, take the reins," Tristan handed them to her. Adima shakily accepted them, her hands bouncing up and down, uncontrollably with the horse's bouncy movements.
"Won't you fall off?" Adima asked a little nervously.
"No," Tristan answered. Adima was nervous on the horse, but still, she wanted more excitement.
After a few more minutes of trotting up and down the line the caravan had made, she asked again. "Can we go faster?"
"You sure you want to do this?" Tristan seemed skeptical. He thought she would have been scared off by now.
"Yes," Adima called to him.
"Hang on tight then," for a flash of a second Adima wanted to draw back her decision to go faster, but it was too late. Tristan kicked the horse into a slow canter, a little faster than the trot.
Adima's body grew tense, but a bolt of excitement surged through her. They ran straight into the course of the wind, her hair twirling behind her. Light snowflakes fell on her face. She smiled in awe. This was one of the best feelings she'd ever felt. She imagined herself flying, as they slowly picked up speed. The sun set slowly behind them.
Passebreul's canter was a smooth one, compared to other horses, and Adima felt herself gliding through the snow. She felt so free and her spirit was lifted in pure excitement. Her face grew cold in the icy wind, but it didn't bother her in the least; she barely noticed it.
They rode past Arthur, swiftly. He smiled and shook his head as the two cantered past him.
They finally came to a halt as the sky above them grew darker. Adima breathed deeply as Tristan helped her bring Passebreul to a stand still. Tristan dismounted first, then helped Adima to do the same.
Adima smiled, happily. "Thank you," she said once her feet touched the soft ground beneath her. The insides of her legs felt stretched and hurt some, but she refused to let it show.
Tristan grinned slightly. "Now you know what it's like to ride a horse the proper way," he said calmly.
"Yes, now I do," Adima stared into his deep eyes somewhat dreamily. "That was" she paused a moment. "That was exhilarating."
"Yes, it is," Tristan agreed. He took the horse by the reins, leading him away form Adima. She followed. "I have to walk him out," Tristan explained. "He must be cooled off before I can tie him up."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Adima asked.
Tristan shook his head. "No, no, not that I can think of." Adima fell silent. "You can come with us, though, if you like." Adima smiled again.
"Sure."
"Oh, just look at those two," Gawain nodded towards Adima and Tristan as they walked away with Passebreul.
Bors chuckled. "Now, what's Tristan up to?"
"Strange for him to be acting so kindly towards a Woad," Dagonet added, holding the limb of a roasted rabbit in his hand.
"Yes," Lancelot muttered. "Very strange."
"Well, goodnight," Tristan said once they had unsaddled Passebreul and tied him up. Adima and Tristan were walking past the wagon where she and Guinevere would sleep in makeshift tents made up of cloths and blankets that were tied to the sides of the wagon. Adima had already eaten before Tristan came to giver the riding lesson and she had told him that she wasn't hungry.
She stepped inside the makeshift tent and turned to look at Tristan. "Goodnight," she echoed him, grinning. "I had fun today."
Tristan smiled slightly, and took his leave, leaving Adima alone to fall asleep. Soon after he left, though, Guinevere joined her. They lay next to each other, covered in thick fur blankets.
"You looked like you were having fun tonight," Guinevere said, resting her head on a pillow. She turned to Adima who was smiling.
"I did have fun tonight," she assured Guinevere. "Tristan seems to be a nice man." She felt butterflies flutter around in her stomach as she spoke his name.
Guinevere could tell in the warm tone of her sister's voice that Adima's mind was swarming with emotions. They quietly bid each other goodnight, and fell asleep.
(a/n: Well, I hope you liked it. Just in case you didn't notice, I tried to emphasize the fact that Tristan has an awesomely sexy accent, or at least that he has an accent. I totally forgot he did until I saw the movie the second time and I was like, hey, that's cool. Lol, so yeah, just remindin' you all...yeah...ok, bye!
-Modesty)
Chapter 4: An Emotional Ride
The dim sunlight could barley be seen through the heavy grey clouds in the sky. Light snowflakes began to fall. Adima's feet crunched softly as she walked through the several inches of freshly fallen snow that had fallen the night before.
Adima noticed Tristan mounting onto his horse; he was just who Adima had been searching for. "Tristan," she called to him. Tristan turned his head to look at her. She walked up beside his horse. "Hello, Breul," she patted the horse on his neck. "Tristan," she began in a sweet tone. "I was wondering, could you-" she hesitated a moment, staring at Passebreul. "Could you teach me to ride?"
Tristan looked at her a little stunned; he was not expecting her to ask this. When he didn't answer right away, Adima began to grow more and more nervous. She hated silence. She looked down at the footprints she'd made in the snow and fidgeted with her grey-blue dress.
"I could teach you to ride," Tristan finally said, firmly. Adima smiled at him, glad he finally spoke. She was also glad that he agreed to teach her. "It takes years of practice to learn to ride well," Tristan sighed. "But, I could teach you to stay on with out falling off."
"Well, that would be a nice start," Adima grinned. She couldn't quite tell by the tone of his voice, however, if he was joking or not. She tried to look pleased but it seemed to her that Tristan was just doing this out of guilt for what had happened earlier. She didn't want him to be nice to her because of that-well, not just that. She smiled at the thought of her on a giant strong horse like Passebreul.
"Fine then," Adima scratched the horse's neck, kindly. Tristan watched her, surprised by her will to learn more about horses.
"Fine," Tristan said, holding out his arm as his hawk landed swiftly on it. Passebreul sidestepped slightly, unnerved by the hawk's sudden landing.
"When shall we begin?" Adima asked hoping he wouldn't suddenly change his mind, which it looked like he might do.
"I will be scouting ahead most of the day," Tristan looked straight ahead as his hawk flew over the caravan, startling some serfs as they readied themselves to leave. "When I return, your lesson will begin."
"It's deathly boring, you know," she stared him in the eye, trying to hold him to his words without speaking. "Sitting around all day, traveling in that wagon," she turned her gaze to the wagon where her sister was already sitting down in.
"Is it?" Tristan asked without any emotion. He looked directly in front of him and Adima wasn't sure if he'd even heard a word of what she had just said. She eyed him suspiciously. A little voice in her head told her to scream, 'Saxon' just to get his attention, but she refrained, though smiling at the idea.
Tristan looked down at her to see her smiling, not sure why. Adima tilted her head innocently still pondering the idea and staring off into space. "If you get bored," Tristan offered. "Sleep."
With that, he kicked his horse in the side, and they trotted off forward, ahead of the caravan.
"Sleep?" Adima asked aloud. "Sleeping is boring," she slowly walked back towards the wagon to her sister.
Tristan quickly turned his head around and watched as Adima climbed into the wagon and sat down beside her sister. An unexpected thought crossed his mind. He had something to look forward to at the end of the day.
Scouting ahead of the rest of the caravan, several miles in front of them, Tristan suddenly spoke to his feathered companion that clung tightly to his arm. "What do you think, eh?" he asked with his slightly accented voice.
The hawk turned her head to him at the sound of his voice, but didn't respond. "Should I teach her then?" he smiled. The hawk screeched slightly. "Is that a yes?" Tristan asked suspiciously.
Tristan was a distant man; his aloofness had always been part of his nature. The knights knew him well enough to understand his desire for seclusion, but Adima did not. Adima did annoy him to an extent, but yet, he found he rather enjoyed her company. "She is beautiful," Tristan whispered to his hawk who turned her head to him again. She eyed him, mystified by the soothing sound of his voice.
Passebreul trotted along the snowy path at an even, steady pace. Tristan patted his neck relaxingly with his hand holding the reins. His hawk screeched. "What?" Tristan asked it. "Are you hungry? It was getting rather late in the day. "Go eat," he commanded, raising his arm to the sky. He felt a heavy weight being lifted from his arm as the hawk took flight. She circled him a while before turning away towards the woods to search for dinner.
Tristan looked on as she disappeared from view behind the many tall treetops surrounding him in all directions. He frowned and sighed, still thinking about Adima. He tried to push her out of his mind, but to no avail. Every time he tried to focus on something else, he kept on seeing her face in his mind.
He looked all around the snow path; and around him; it was safe. Arthur and the rest of the caravan should find it not difficult to travel through this land on the next day. He turned Passebreul around, knowing it was getting late and that he should be back to the caravan to report back to Arthur soon.
The sun was about to set by the time he got back to the caravan. A great smile crossed Adima's face when she saw him talking with Arthur at the head of the caravan. She saw Arthur nodding and then Tristan walked his horse slowly towards her. The caravan had already stopped for the night, and Adima was feeling beyond restless.
Gawain and Bors went out into the woods to hunt for dinner.
"You remembered," Adima smiled when Tristan trotted forward to her. Tristan nodded and dismounted, stepping down onto the fresh snow lightly. He held Passebreul's reins tightly in his hand.
He cleared his throat a little nervously. Very few people made Tristan nervous, and Adima was one of them. Perhaps it was due to the effort she put in just to speak with him. Tristan was used to having women like him, and act this way towards him, but Adima was a Woad, something totally different than the other women he'd shrugged off in the past.
Something that scared him was that he felt at peace around her. He barely knew her, but he knew it since their second meeting. He was surprised to see her for the second time and he knew that day, if one of the knights was going to kill her, it would be him, and so he could look at her face one more time. Perhaps this strange feeling within him too was part of his decision to let her go at the end of the first battle where they crossed blades. Normally, he wouldn't have taken pity on her, or let her go. If it were another Woad, he would have killed her instantly, giving her no second chances at life. But it wasn't another Woad he fought that day; it was her.
"What are those?" Adima asked, suddenly breaking the nerving silence between them. Tristan snapped back to reality, emerging from his distant thoughts. Adima pointed to the leather reins Tristan held in his hand.
"Reins," Tristan said quickly. "They, umm," you use them to guide your horse; tell him where to go; or stop if that's what you want him to do. You can also use them to whip your horse, if they're long enough." Tristan held them up closer to Adima, making sure she could see them. "With reins, you'll have better control over your horse." Adima nodded, taking in all that he was saying. Tristan then explained to her the names and uses of the horse's tack and main behavior. Adima listened closely, nodding every now and then to let Tristan know she was hearing what he was saying.
Gawain stood and watched them from the campfire he had set up not far from them. He shook his head wondering what the Woad was getting herself into.
"Now, Tristan began, placing Adima's hand on the horse's reins. "Take these, and I'll help you mount." Adima nodded and took the reins in her hand. "Put your foot in the stirrup-your left foot."
Gawain smiled when he saw Adima having trouble with sticking her foot in the stirrup. The stirrup was high off the ground, and it was hard for her for reach her leg up. She finally slid her foot into the stirrup, and Tristan boosted her other foot upwards. "Now swing that foot around," he instructed sternly. Adima swung her leg around to the horse's other side. Tristan walked behind the horse and to its other side to make sure Adima was able to place her right foot into the right stirrup. He helped push her foot forward into the stirrup.
"Now, when you ride," Tristan held tightly onto the horse's long mane for safety. "You must sit up straight," Adima quickly sat up as straight as possible. "You must keep your heels down," Adima pushed her heels down as far as they would go. Tristan let go of Passebreul's mane and paced around the horse, checking to make sure all his tack was rightly in place. "Keep your hands here," Tristan grabbed Adima's hands and slid them forward, closer to the horse's neck then they had been. "Try to keep your hands still," he let go and backed away.
Adima grew tense with nervousness. She thought she would fall off; she was sure she would. "Maybe you should hold on," she offered shakily. Passebreul took a few steps forward.
Tristan grabbed part of his horse's reins. "Now," he said kindly. "He won't go running off unless he's frightened. "If you insist, I'll hold onto him with you." Adima nodded her head, thinking this was a very good plan. "I'm going to walk him now," Tristan warned. "Hold on tight to the reins, and squeeze with your legs; not to hard, but enough so you'll stay on comfortably."
"This isn't very comfortable," Adima complained, tightening her legs around Passebreul's stomach. A slight grin crossed Tristan's face.
Adima could feel the powerful horse moving beneath her. Slowly, his body began to rise and fall as he took each step. She could feel him breathing heavily with her legs. She reminded herself to sit up straight and fixed her posture to do so.
Tristan guided the horse to walk around in small circles at a slow pace. Adima's body swayed with the horse's every movement and she squeezed her legs tighter afraid she'd fall off. "You won't fall off," Tristan promised her, noticing the tight grip she had on the horse's stomach. Adima loosened her grip a little. Passebreul sighed heavily and snorted. "You're doing fine," Tristan assured her. Adima smiled at this compliment.
Galahad, Lancelot, and Bors came to sit beside Gawain near the fire. Lancelot brought them a dead rabbit to roast on the spit. Dagonet and Lucan soon joined them.
"Not bad for her first ride," Gawain pointed to Adima.
"Has she fallen off yet?" Galahad asked.
"No," Gawain answered.
"She's better than you then," Dagonet smiled. Galahad frowned at his comment. Bors chuckled.
Adima slowly began to relax, feeling more comfortable atop Passebreul. She smiled, proudly at how she was doing. She looked down to meet Tristan's gaze. She smiled and he smiled back. A soft wind blew through her hair, powdering it with light snowflakes. A warm sensation coursed through her body as she smiled down at Tristan. She didn't know what it was, but atop that horse, on that day, that very moment, she was truly happy.
Guinevere walked up to the knights sitting around the small fire. She saw her sister smiling and it brought joy to her heart. She had not seen Adima smile this much in a long time, for her sister had been haunted by the dark cloud of death for many years. Guinevere couldn't help but crack a smile herself. Her sister's happiness was obviously contagious. Guinevere sat down beside Lancelot and joined the others in conversation.
Passebreul's muscles rippled beneath him. Adima tightened her grip on the reins. "Can we go faster?" she asked sweetly.
Tristan shook his head, "I don't think you're ready for that." He looked up at her.
"What if you ride, too?" Adima's sweet tone sounded hopeful. Tristan stopped Passebreul in his tracks and the horse snorted.
"You want me to ride with you?" he asked a little taken back.
Adima nodded," yes, if you would."
"Alright then," Tristan agreed a little apprehensively. "Take your feet out of the stirrups." Adima did as he commanded. Tristan put one foot in the stirrup and held onto the saddle with one hand. Adima watched as he pulled himself up and onto Passebreul's back. He sat behind her.
Adima scooted as far forward as she cou
ld and handed Tristan the reins behind her. Tristan clicked his tongue against his cheek and Passebreul trotted forward. Adima's body jolted slightly behind her at the sudden movement of the horse.
"Oh, what are they doing now?" Gawain asked his friends suspiciously as he stared at Tristan and Adima.
Adima laughed in enjoyment as the horse trotted forward. She squeezed her legs tightly around the horse. "Here, take the reins," Tristan handed them to her. Adima shakily accepted them, her hands bouncing up and down, uncontrollably with the horse's bouncy movements.
"Won't you fall off?" Adima asked a little nervously.
"No," Tristan answered. Adima was nervous on the horse, but still, she wanted more excitement.
After a few more minutes of trotting up and down the line the caravan had made, she asked again. "Can we go faster?"
"You sure you want to do this?" Tristan seemed skeptical. He thought she would have been scared off by now.
"Yes," Adima called to him.
"Hang on tight then," for a flash of a second Adima wanted to draw back her decision to go faster, but it was too late. Tristan kicked the horse into a slow canter, a little faster than the trot.
Adima's body grew tense, but a bolt of excitement surged through her. They ran straight into the course of the wind, her hair twirling behind her. Light snowflakes fell on her face. She smiled in awe. This was one of the best feelings she'd ever felt. She imagined herself flying, as they slowly picked up speed. The sun set slowly behind them.
Passebreul's canter was a smooth one, compared to other horses, and Adima felt herself gliding through the snow. She felt so free and her spirit was lifted in pure excitement. Her face grew cold in the icy wind, but it didn't bother her in the least; she barely noticed it.
They rode past Arthur, swiftly. He smiled and shook his head as the two cantered past him.
They finally came to a halt as the sky above them grew darker. Adima breathed deeply as Tristan helped her bring Passebreul to a stand still. Tristan dismounted first, then helped Adima to do the same.
Adima smiled, happily. "Thank you," she said once her feet touched the soft ground beneath her. The insides of her legs felt stretched and hurt some, but she refused to let it show.
Tristan grinned slightly. "Now you know what it's like to ride a horse the proper way," he said calmly.
"Yes, now I do," Adima stared into his deep eyes somewhat dreamily. "That was" she paused a moment. "That was exhilarating."
"Yes, it is," Tristan agreed. He took the horse by the reins, leading him away form Adima. She followed. "I have to walk him out," Tristan explained. "He must be cooled off before I can tie him up."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Adima asked.
Tristan shook his head. "No, no, not that I can think of." Adima fell silent. "You can come with us, though, if you like." Adima smiled again.
"Sure."
"Oh, just look at those two," Gawain nodded towards Adima and Tristan as they walked away with Passebreul.
Bors chuckled. "Now, what's Tristan up to?"
"Strange for him to be acting so kindly towards a Woad," Dagonet added, holding the limb of a roasted rabbit in his hand.
"Yes," Lancelot muttered. "Very strange."
"Well, goodnight," Tristan said once they had unsaddled Passebreul and tied him up. Adima and Tristan were walking past the wagon where she and Guinevere would sleep in makeshift tents made up of cloths and blankets that were tied to the sides of the wagon. Adima had already eaten before Tristan came to giver the riding lesson and she had told him that she wasn't hungry.
She stepped inside the makeshift tent and turned to look at Tristan. "Goodnight," she echoed him, grinning. "I had fun today."
Tristan smiled slightly, and took his leave, leaving Adima alone to fall asleep. Soon after he left, though, Guinevere joined her. They lay next to each other, covered in thick fur blankets.
"You looked like you were having fun tonight," Guinevere said, resting her head on a pillow. She turned to Adima who was smiling.
"I did have fun tonight," she assured Guinevere. "Tristan seems to be a nice man." She felt butterflies flutter around in her stomach as she spoke his name.
Guinevere could tell in the warm tone of her sister's voice that Adima's mind was swarming with emotions. They quietly bid each other goodnight, and fell asleep.
(a/n: Well, I hope you liked it. Just in case you didn't notice, I tried to emphasize the fact that Tristan has an awesomely sexy accent, or at least that he has an accent. I totally forgot he did until I saw the movie the second time and I was like, hey, that's cool. Lol, so yeah, just remindin' you all...yeah...ok, bye!
-Modesty)