Disclaimer: Anything you recognize I don't own but Syeira and her quirks are mine.
I haven't posted in months, really sorry about that. Life gets complicated sometimes.
Thanks for the amazing reviews!
Chapter 6: Repercussions
The quiet light of dawn trickled through the windows at Hadrian's Wall. After the previous nights festivities there wasn't much movement through the fort.
Tristan took in the refreshing morning air standing at the entrance to the target range. After leaving his room for the first time in what seemed like eternity, he had grabbed his bow and a quiver of arrows to see if he still had the great skill and precision that he valued so much. A hawk's cry rang through the air, his hawk's. The bird of prey perched on a nearby fence waiting for him to shoot.
Raising his Sarmatian bow and arrow he took his aim at the far away target. He regrettably winced pulling back, his half-healed injuries screamed at him in protest. Releasing the arrow he let out a deep breath, his bandaged side and arm throbbed. He winced as he checked his wounds.
'Syeira is going to kill me if I reopen these.'
Nothing was bleeding so he used his hawk-like vision to examine the target. His eyes darkened at what he saw. Taking long, irate strides he reached it. His arrow was imbedded a finger width from the dotted centre. Using his good arm he ripped the arrow angrily from the target, broke it in half and left it in the long grass.
'This isn't happening.'
Sunlight engulfed the room where Syeira laid hanging off the edge of a bed. Her eyelashes began to flutter open and take in her surroundings when something or someone beside her shifted. Without a chance to adjust she plummeted off the side of the bed. Instead of coming into contact with the hard floor that she braced herself for, Syeira fell right on top of another body.
The person groaned in pain but decided to ignore the sudden excess weight on top of them and continue sleeping. Syeira was now somewhat awake sighed when she saw who she landed on.
"Galahad, what are you doing in my room…and why are you on the floor?" She muttered, trying to keep her eyes as shut as possible, the bright sunlight was going to do nothing for her aching head.
"Hmmm?" Moaned the young knight. "I thought this was my room."
A tired, confused look appeared on Syeira face. "If this is your room then who's on the bed?"
She got no reply, Galahad had gone straight back to being sound asleep with the Sarmatian woman still on top of him. With the use of sleeping knight she pushed herself up off his chest and squinted at the dormant figure on the bed. Gawain lay there, stretched out in the centre of the bed lightly snoring.
'What the hell happened last night? Uhhh, so tired…'
Deciding it would be best to pull down the shade over the window and let herself sleep a little while longer, she got to her feet. Her slow journey to the window gave her time to recollect the night before. She remembered her and Lancelot's bet, singing with Galahad, kissing Gawain, drinking more than she ever had before, Lancelot passing out, her victory dance, drinking some more, then blank…
"Ha! I beat the cocky bastard!" She shouted triumphantly, immediately regretting it for she grabbed her head in pain.
'Okay no more yelling, talking, anything. Just shut the curtain and get some sleep. You can rub it in Lancelot's face later, but now it's time for sleep. Glorious, beautiful sleep.'
Squinting she fought with the stubborn piece of material but immediately stopped when something out the window caught her eye. Someone was outside alone at the target field fighting an invisible opponent with a sword. Syeira narrowed her eyes in frustration.
'What the hell does he think he's doing? Do you have a bloody death wish brother? Urrgh Tristan, you can be such an idiot!'
All the nasty affects of her hangover where replaced with anger and concern, giving her the motivation to run out the door. Something that she would have avoided at the risk of loosing the contents of her stomach, but this was her brother, her incredibly stubborn and stupid brother.
She ran from the window tripping on Galahad's legs on the way to the door but she made it to her own room in no time. She grabbed her sword off her vacant, unused bed and marched heatedly outside.
Swing there, block here, step left, duck right. Tristan was re-enacting his battle with the Saxons.
'How could I have been so sloppy, so foolish, so stupid?'
Move for move, Tristan retraced his steps, noting some movement a ways behind him. He brushed it off since the rest of the fort would be stirring and getting ready for the new day about then. He continued to fight with an invisible Saxon, until he heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed. Faster that a blink, Tristan turned on his heel and blocked his now solid opponent's blow. He held back a wince when the he blocked his adversary's sword.
The scout's usual expressionless eyes widened a bit. He was face-to-face, blade-to-blade with his own sister.
'Not good, definitely not good.'
Her eyes were ablaze with something only her enemies get to see, they don't get to experience the piercing feeling for more than a few minutes at most. They're usually dead soon after that. Her quick temper wasn't a secret and Hell hath no fury like Syeira when she's fighting.
Then it started, without breaking eye contact Syeira let loose a fury of swipes with her exotic-looking curved blade. Tristan blocked every one. He wasn't surprised she could fight like a knight. This was his sister, a Sarmatian woman, his warrior princess. And though he would hate to admit it, she was close to beating him.
"Are you out of your mind! You should be in bed! Do you want to stay injured for the rest of your life! Do you ever want to fight again! You think you're well enough. Let's see if you are a fit as you say you are." She yelled between attacks.
"Well dear sister, if you are so concerned with my well being," Tristan blocked a swipe at his chest. "Then why are you trying to kill me?" Good question.
"I'm making sure you'll have to stay in bed until I see fit." She said breathing quickly.
'Fair enough.' Thought Tristan. Knowing his sister, he saw that remark coming.
The scout started to tire. Syeira fighting style was too fast for him while he was still in a less than fit condition. He shouldn't be fighting. With his pride in the way, he didn't tell his sister to stop, but he didn't have to ask.
Syeira instantly stopped fighting, she backed up a few steps, dropped her sword and stared at him. Her breathing was heavy but her anger was gone. She didn't want to fight anymore. Tristan felt dizzy and stood unsteady on his feet. Syeira saw this and quickly took his sword away and placed it beside her own. She then wrapped one arm around him in support and they stared to walk back to the fort.
Neither spoke a word to each other the whole way to Tristan's room. He sat down on his bed while Syeira brought over a small basin of cool water and a cloth. She dipped in the water and wiped Tristain's hot, sweaty brow.
"I'm sorry brother. I shouldn't have pushed you that hard. I shouldn't have pushed you at all." She said in a quiet voice laced with shame and guilt.
"Do not be sorry. I deserved every bit of what I got." Tristan let her pull off his shirt to check his wounds.
"I knew I wouldn't be able to keep you in bed. You needed to get out of this room sometime. I just wish you would have waited for me so I could have helped you." She gently took of the bandages around his chest and arm with her nimble fingers.
"I don't always need you watching me, Syeira. I am a grown man and I've been watching over myself for over fifteen years."
"I know but you haven't realized something. You're all I have left and I am going to make sure you're around for awhile or at least until I get sick of you." She said with a wink and a grin. She was in better spirits again, that made his heart lighten. He hated it when his sister was down and upset.
Syeira grinned big after she finished redressing Tristan's wounds.
"Now I want you to rest a bit more. Promise me you'll sleep a bit. We can go to the tavern later." A devious smirk appeared on Tristan's face.
"So how was the party last night?" He looked at Syeira's clothes, which so happened to be the same ones she wore the night before. "Must have been good if you were so tired after you couldn't change."
'He better not be implying what I think he is.'
"I just remembered I have a terrible hangover and should go back to sleep right away." Tristan looked at his sister blankly, although he was smiling inside. He had made her feel uncomfortable. He took joy in poking fun at Syeira, she got embarrassed with him easy. Although the big brother in him pined to know what really happened during her night out.
'If Lancelot…'
"I know what you're thinking and he didn't. I actually woke up in Galahad's room, with Gawain." Tristan didn't have time to hide his surprise. Syeira started to laugh, she had gotten her brother back, but a dull ache in the back of her head had decided to come back.
"I'm going. I'm taking a bath and a nap. You nap too. I'll get you later. Do not leave this room till I get back. Is that clear, mister?" She said as she got up.
"Clear as the sky on a cloudy day." Syeira narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
"Don't try to be funny. Rest now." She was just about to close the door behind her when Tristan called her back.
"Why were you in bed with Gawain?" He calmly asked with an edge of hostility in his voice. He was in his over protective big brother phase.
"Nothing big, well that's a matter of opinions." She chuckled. "It was his birthday, I had to give him something." She said with a very devilish smirk before exiting into the hall. "Sweet dreams big brother." She said through the door.
She could have sworn as she walked away something glass shattered against the closed door.
'Serves you right for scaring me half to death today… I hope Gawain doesn't see Tristan before I do. That would be unfortunate… for Gawain that is.'
Syeira rubbed her tired eyes and looked out the window. The sun was getting higher in the sky. It would be noon in a few hours.
"Well no use going back to bed. Where did Jols show me to get hot water from?"
After another hour of hauling buckets of hot water to fill a bath, Syeira thankfully peeled off her dirty clothes and slipped into the, now comfortably warm, water.
"This is exactly what I needed."
She poured some of her treasured bath oils from Sarmatia in her hair. She still had a year's worth stored away in small bottles but she used it sparingly. Who knew when she would return home again, if she returned at all?
She stretched out as much as she could in the bath and soaked. She sat in the warm water for hours and she could have stayed like that forever but the door to her room opened.
"Well now. Aren't I glad I didn't knock."
The intruder almost made Syeira jump out of her skin. She froze for a second before grabbing a nearby tunic to cover her exposed body.
"Lancelot! Get the hell out of my room!" He smirked.
"Are you sure? I could go for a bath right now anyway."
"OUT!"
A/N: Thanks for all the input on the possible pairing for this story. Most want Galahad, but I thought about my whole plot and I think I'm now favouring in the direction of Lancelot. I could still change my mind, romance it far on the horizon (I think).
Review Kindly