A/N- this chptr is completely silent-no dialogue whatsoever so don't remark on the format please! (I didn't mean it to be that way though so sorry) We're getting down to the final chapters, I estimate that I'm about six or so until the end, which is going to be a very very long chapter!
The tragic sight she had witnessed weighed on her conscience and she sought to ease her horror by visiting the two survivors. The little boy was a sober wide-eyed little child, afraid to speak or interact with anyone save Dagonet. In spite of this, she sat with him and talked to him, answered only with slight nods of his head. The girl, Gwenivere, was at first hostile to everyone, suspicious and wary of their intentions. Once she learned that Camille was half Celt herself, the other woman opened up a little more, and soon the two were laughing over Camille's stumblings in the musical Woad tongue, a language she had not spoken since her childhood. While traveling, Camille spent her time herding and helping the peasants, which followed their caravan, clutching their meager belongings to thin chests. She felt very at home with them, and as she was more patient than all the knights save Arthur himself, she was given the task of keeping them in order. From a distance she watched and smiled as Gwenivere grew closer to Arthur and the two began to spend more time together. Feeling that Gwenivere was the perfect foil to Arthur's personality, she extolled his virtues to the other woman whenever she could slip his name in on the sly. Although she trusted her, for Gwenivere had become her friend, she felt twinges of foreboding about her. It was obvious that under the grime she was very beautiful, although it was a different beauty than Camille's. She was tall and willowy where Camille was petite and compact. Her features were more open and lighter, sharper than Camille's dark eyes, mouth, and hair in comparison to pale skin.
After a long day of hard traveling, they camped under the shelter of tall dark pines, muted by the mountain snow. Camille refused Jols' offer to take her horse, instead she unsaddled and brushed down the big charger herself, then feeding and caring for her packhorse. As she returned to the main fire to bid her goodnights, her eye was caught by light issuing from the wagon. Looking closer she saw that Gwenivere was bathing in full view of anyone outside, her eyes riveted on something by the tree line. Following her gaze, Camille's breath caught in her chest and she stiffened. Lancelot stood, his back against a tree watching, having caught her blue eyes with his intense dark ones. Watching the two of them, she felt the twinges of unease bloom into full pangs of distress. Shutting her eyes tightly she held them there for a moment then opened them and looked back. The stare was broken and Lancelot had headed further into the trees. She felt a sob rise in her throat, but then stuffed it back down irritated, she refused to play the role of the jealous shrew. Lancelot was a human being, a male one, and none of them were perfect. Besides, how could she assume that she was the only woman he had ever liked? It was ridiculous. She would not mention it and would go on living, not worrying over every little glance he threw towards other women. And anyways, she though, Gwenivere was her friend and Lancelot her lover. They would not betray her…would they?
Stuffing down any uncertain thoughts she decided against paying her goodnights, collected her horse and gear, found a dry warm place not too far from the fire and bedded down for the night. When she had almost fallen asleep, she heard footsteps by her head. Turning her head slightly, as if in sleep, and cracking open one eye she recognized the boots to be Lancelot's. He paced back and forth in front of her for a long time before sighing restlessly and sitting down beside her. As he drew his knees into his chest she could feel his eyes on her, watching her, and no doubt wrestling with thoughts as tumultuous as her own. Suddenly he rose and started off away from her. She raised her head, with no more pretensions to sleep and saw him standing, partially concealed behind a tree trunk, watching Gwenivere who was walking, or rather gliding to a moonlit clearing which gave her a beauty that was entirely belonging to a creature not of their world. She swallowed painfully and mentally willed him not to follow her, resolving not to watch if he were to do so. To her immense relief she saw Arthur rise, as if in a trance, and follow her, his eyes wide. At this, Lancelot retreated fully behind the tree. Camille shut her eyes and prayed in thanksgiving to any god who might have been listening at the moment. She shut her eyes quickly, as she heard footsteps approaching her again. He sat down, again, beside her and this time after resting a hand, briefly, on her hair sighed once, this time in resignation, and slept. When she was sure he was asleep, she sat up and watched his face. For the second time that day, she felt as if she were going to cry. She lay down again, closer to him, and prayed once again, to anyone who might hear it, that Lancelot would stay with her, as she was not sure she would have to live for once he was gone. Many hours later, when she finally drifted off to sleep, it was a troubled slumber, full of dreams in which she ran through the world alone, and desperately lonely.
please please review! I got 0, nada, zilch for the last chapter and I was sad.