Author's Note: I'm really sorry if I'm making this story long and drawn out with sooo many new characters and names and plots; but I just feel like there arent many stories that keep going and deal with new storylines, and I like them. Hopefully you all will still like and read this story if I can update on a regular basis (sorry, college papers suck). I love input, so please, if you don't like the directions I'm taking or characters Im making, please inform me! Other than that, enjoy!

Chapter 16

"One of the first and foremost principles is to always protect yourself. Never travel without some type of weapon, never sleep with both eyes closed, never trust anyone". I looked up at my trainer, blinking.

"A bit paranoid, are we, Lance?" I exclaimed as he broke into a smile. Gawain shook his head, continuing to practice his knife throwing with Galahad.

"Stop feeding her crap, Lancelot. Teach the girl something useful, like how to aim your piss square in the face on an enemy as he's down. Now that's skill" Bors exclaimed, patting the back of his 11th child as it tried to burp.

Lancelot simply replied, "Not all can possess such talent as you, Bors." He turned back to me, attempting to look serious. "If your going to be Captain, your going to have to learn to control your men."

I folded my arms. "Are you calling me a softy?"

He blinked twice, not answering.

I bit my lip as my head nodded. "Alright, go on then."

"Men will not respect you if you let them walk all over you. You have to be firm. Keep your face one expression, your voice steady and powerful. Oh…Arria, always keep your chin up in superior fashion….you are Roman, are you not?" To make his point clear, he placed his finger on my neck and lifted my chin up for me, like a baby. I kept my mouth shut, though my eyes should have given away my playfulness as I pretended to sulk.

He took notice, and looked behind to see that Bors, Galahad and Gawain were no longer watching our little teaching lesson. He turned back to me, and with his hand still placed on my chin, gently pressed his soft lips to mine.

As he broke away, I whispered softly, "Does this count as letting men walk all over me?"

He placed his forehead against mine, his cool breath freshly blowing onto me. "Don't worry about me. Tis not my respect you are trying to gain, for you already have my admiration." He closed his eyes and kissed me once more, this time with greater force and passion, leaving me with the yearn for more. Damn he was good.

I woke up, rubbing the sweat off my face with my tunic. We were to be at the Wall within a few hours…and I vaguely realized that I had took my mind completely off Lancelot the entire trip west, that is, if you don't count that silly dream just now. I looked over to see that my men were still asleep, including Arthur. Groaning, I lay back down, tossing over on my side as my eyes closed in frustration. Sleep would be hard to get now.

Finally, we wearily reached our destination: home sweet home. For once the sun was brightly shining, unlike the usual misty air that covered the fort. I retired to my quarters, intent on sleeping the rest of the week away. We deserved it.

As I passed by the corridor, I saw Bors emerge from Gawain's room, his face obscurely bright and cheerful.

"Arria! Your home!" He shouted delightfully at me and proceeded to engulf me in a huge bear hug from which I could not breathe for a few moments.

"Come from the bar I see…"

He chuckled. "Just heading there, along with you."

"Oh, no Bors, really, I need to catch up-" I tiredly tried to explain. He would have one of it.

"Come now silly girl, is that the way to congratulate the soon to be father of a dozen kids?" His eyes were dancing with glee, and I found my own widening in complete surprise.

"No! Vanora? Again? Bors you old dog!" I embraced him again and, against my body's cries, went out to celebrate. I suppose rest would come later.

I found everyone to be there already; apparently news like this travels fast, but then again, amongst men any excuse is cause enough to celebrate with a little ale. Rosy greeted me with a smile before she returned to her rather flirty conversation with Gawain, to whom I raised an eyebrow. Aedan was with Remus and Tobias, laughing probably over the many tricks they pulled on Conall, as his own face was looking sullen. Avery sat with Gabriel, as many soldiers gathered round watching their drinking contest with delight. Gafran sat with a wench on his lap, looking on silently. Bors and Vanora were in the corner, engulfed in their own love. My body froze when I saw him, his back to me as he sat gambling with Jols and a few villagers. Obviously I knew I would be seeing him once more. It was impossible to ignore him forever. But for a moment, a quick moment mind you, feelings I had once felt (for what seemed like ages ago) returned, my head feeling light. To suppress it, I simply clenched both my fist and teeth and sat at a nearby empty table, calling one of the girl's over for some ale.

I discovered this would be harder than I expected. No matter how hard I tried to focus on everyone else, my eyes wandered back over to Lancelot, wondering if he had seen me. Be strong Arria. You are not worthless.

"Captain!" Aedan called, coming over to me. At that moment Lancelot turned round my way, and our eyes locked for what seemed like eternity. I kept my face smooth like stone, not allowing him to witness any expression. Hopefully he will know I am quite over him. For a moment, he looked as if willing to get up, but quickly decided against it and turned back around.

I looked back over to my lieutenant, who pulled a chair next to me. "Thought you would be asleep by now." He had his hair down for once, his blonde curls bouncing around, exemplifying his excitement.

I yawned. "Indeed, that's what we ALL should be doing. But I suppose drinking until you can't piss straight is more fun." He laughed at my sarcasm, flaring up his hand in the air to request more drinks.

"Are you glad to be back?" He asked, his eyes already a bit bloodshot.

At first I was too distracted by a loud laughter to answer right away. Gawain and Remus were in a knife throwing contest. "What?" I asked.

He laughed and whispered the question again in my ear. His breath made my ear tickle, and I giggled because of it. "Yes, quite. Tis a hard job taking care of a bunch of wee babes on the road." I gulped down my third pint in seconds, feeling a rush of excitement. Perhaps I never mentioned my low tolerance levels, but I was already starting to feel the effects. I'll show Lancelot I can still have fun.

"Yes, Avery can be quite the handful…" he exclaimed, just as Avery himself fell off his chair, too drunk to sit straight.

More drinks were brought, and by my fifth pint I was no longer tired and stiff, but lively and dizzy. I joined in as songs were sung loud and off key, and laughed merrily as people raised their cups to Bors and Vanora.

After an hour parties began to break up, and though still intoxicated I found myself yawning more and more. I raised my hand for another round, but a hand caught my arm in the process.

"That's enough for one night Captain. Time for bed."

I pushed his hand away, annoyed by his authority. "But I was about to serenade the men…."

"And thank the gods I stopped you.." He smiled and placed one arm under my shoulder, helping me walk back to my quarters. I staggered about, not minding the help, and actually looking forward to passing out on my pillow. I knew the worse feeling was yet to come.

As we neared the main hall inside our fort, I was filled with a strange urge and, grabbing his hand, I took Aedan down an askew stairway, with only a torch light to guide us as we swaggered. "Where are we going?" he questioned with a note of amusement.

"Be silent when your superior commands it-" I stated, my mind fully alert and coherent. At last we entered the room, a room I had not visited in quite some time.

"Giving me a tour of the armory, I see." he quirked, a bit uninterested. I looked at him with expulsion.

"This armory holds the history of battles fought and lives lost to defend this island. Would you scoff?"

Once again, he gave me the smile that reminded me of Galahad, and I could not help but sigh in sorrow. Seeing the sudden distraught look on my face, he looked to the walls, walking along as the weapons shone their stories. "Most women get giddy and inappropriate when they've had a bit too much libation. I should have known you instead would voice your convictions of morality and history."

I put my hand against the wall to keep from falling to the side. "Am I so different?" I asked, though it was more a question to myself than to him.

At first he didn't respond. He just stared, unsure of what to say, his lips slightly parted. I gazed about uncomfortably. Seeing this, he turned back to the wall, looking at the marks and colors on the various shields. "See this shield?" He pointed. "The one with the swan? This is my father's land. The province of Cum Dunaigh. Soon it will be mine." I walked over, and stood next to him as he looked on in anxiousness. The dizziness was leaving me.

"My lieutenant is to become Lord? I must say, I have lacked in the knowledge of my men's lineages. Tell me of your heritage, Aedan. You are of this land, that much I know."

He sighed, his expression unreadable. "Yes, I am of this land. My British family is far older than most, more than two centuries, I'm told."

"Why the swan?" I burst out, not being at all polite. The rum was making my tongue quite pert. "I would think, based on your skills as a warrior, the family symbol would be more…ferocious?"

He chuckled a bit as he crossed his arms in thought. "The swan represents wisdom, nobility, and grace. None I posses to be sure, but I suppose I like being different from the many lands who sport a lion or bear or some other fierce animal. After all, if all clans wished to be portrayed as vicious warriors, Britain should be named a savage land indeed."

I raised an eyebrow, quite content with his answer. "Looks like I'm not the only one who voices philosophy while intoxicated."

Aedan walked along, occasionally recognizing a few banners, including the families of Remus and Tobias, who were both British as well. Conall, it seemed, was half British, half Irish. "What of Gafran?" I burst out, quite rudely as he was about to say something.

Aedan's warm demeanor faded, and he shied away. "Surely someone else might tell you. It is not my place." I could tell he did not want to speak more on the subject, but I was feeling anxious.

"Please?" I asked sweetly, something I haven't done in years. My training as captain and leader has made my voice quite deeper, and it was weird to hear it rise up like the bar girls.

"His father was a Sarmatian knight posted hear along with your friends." That much I knew. It was all I could get Gafran to say to me that night in the stable. The night he sang that piercing song. Aedan continued. "He never knew his mother. She died giving birth to him, and he was sent to live with his uncle…his mother's brother, down south in Glencarson. Arthur had him brought back a bit after you came to Britain, I think. Wanted to make him a Rider." He had kept his voice low and monotone, almost fearful as if someone were listening.

"What happened to his father? I heard he was exiled."

"Yes…yes, you see, his father Ronan was a very arrogant man. He was a young hot head according to Gawain…nobody quite liked him. In the second week here Gawain said Ronan had an eye on the Lord of Glencarson's sister Fainne, when they visited here. Couldn't keep his eyes off her…and, later that night, he couldn't keep his hands off her…against her will." My eyes shot wide open, unable to process it all. "He claimed she was willing, but she denied it. Arthur was furious. The Lord Cormack, her brother, wanted him killed immediately. Arthur refused, and sent him into exile. It was quite the local scandal, and everyone took pity when Gafran was born. They say Lord Cormack didn't even want to keep the bastard nephew…one time, I went to visit their province with my father, and I overheard Lord Cormack screaming at Gafran…telling him he'd never amount to anything, never be anything more than…" he lowered his voice even more, completely embarrassed. "well, nothing worth repeating."

I had no idea…and my look just then conveyed that much. I was suddenly filled with remorse, anger, and understanding. That's why he is so troubled…so disobedient. He's full of anger, and has no one to turn to.

"Wait a second…but that would mean Gafran is only fourteen or fifteen years old! But that can't be?"

Aedan half chuckled, half sighed. "A troubled man always looks older. With what he's been through." He looked up, staring at me intently. "I never meant to reveal so much. Gossiping, that is. Not right….not right at all…" he said to himself, biting his lip in frustration. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he twitched in discomfort. Perhaps it was me, but at that moment Aedan seemed older, wiser, more thoughtful than just the playful Rider I've seen.

He was still staring at me, his lips slightly parted. "Why did you really bring me down here, Arria?"

It was the first time he had called me by my true name, and I was quite taken aback by his question. "I wanted to show you…."

"The armory? I've seen it many times before, surely you must know this." I swallowed the saliva building in my mouth.

"Not quite myself tonight, lieutenant. A bit too much ale…" I began to say, but he only cocked his head, half listening.

"I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry?"

"You were troubled tonight, that much is plain. When you went to the bar, something was vexing you." He was getting to close to knowing me. I don't like it when my feelings outwardly show. I said nothing, hoping he would drop it. I crossed my arms and kept my head down, unsure of what to do in such an awkward moment.

He gently placed his hand on my chin, lifting my face up to look at him. "Chin up lass" he stated, the Galahad piercing smile once more surfacing. "Your not alone."

It felt like eternity since a man touched me the way he had touched my skin so gently. I gulped in my nervousness, unsure myself why I had just not gone to bed before. Why had I brought him down here?

I found I had placed my hand onto his, as his fingers brushed a few stray hairs off my cheek. He was whispering now. "You are lonely and hate to show it." He took his hand off my cheek and just held my fingers, eventually kissing the palm of it.

"No I'm not…" I said slowly, my voice slightly quivering.

He continued to stare into my eyes, searching for something deep behind them. "You bottle things inside and hope to the gods that they don't show outwardly."

"Everyone does."

He smiled, drawing ever closer. "I'm not sure who you are, Arria. I know you as a Captain, I know you as a warrior. I know what you strive for in this country…but I don't know you…and the fact that I want to know you more scares me."

He was being blatantly honest. There was no Avery popping out, laughing hysterically at their little joke on me.

"There's nothing to know." I stated, my voice as far from commanding and able as one can get.

He hesitated, but slowly began to rub the sides of my shoulders with his fingers, touching nothing but flesh. "You don't want to look soft in front of us. You strive to get our respect. Why do you care? Who are you out to impress?" Brutal honesty. "If I'm dangerously straying beyond borders, let me know…but somehow…I feel you want to let out something."

It was I, not he, who made the first move. I titled my head upwards, closing my eyes as I brought my mouth up to his, his tender lips touching mine first with a hint of shyness, then with more power. He wrapped his strong arms around my back as I held on, for once my fears, my depression not dwelling in my thoughts.

"You're safe" he whispered, and without another word, kissed me harder and more fiercely, my hand expertly squeezing hold of his back, then his head. But before anything could go on I broke the kiss, placing my head in his chest, and we both slid to the ground. All he did was hold me, and did not ask for more.