An Optimist's Dream in a Time of Darkness

Chapter 4: Tension

AN: Thank you all for your glorious reviews. I love you all. I don't believe there were any questions so, without further ado I present to you, chapter four.

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Arthur fell asleep just outside the villa on a stone slab. The morning was cloudy and dank; there hadn't been a warm breezy day since the Sarmatians had arrived. It seemed this country was determined to wash its self of foreigners and the wars they brought with them.

The young boy stood, and rubbed the back of his neck feverishly before following the worn path back to the courtyard. The following day after the knights had arrived, they immediately began their battle training. This was Arthur's downfall; he had been taught how to use a sword, but these Sarmatians brought with them techniques from their own land, techniques Arthur could not dream of besting. And so he trudged on for another lesson in bewilderedness.

He passed by the barn on his way, and ignored the sinister glare issued to him by Lancelot. The knight simply stood in the center of the entrance, his sword strapped to his back, watching the young Commander as he passed by with the least of interest in his presence. Arthur continued on his way without so much as a backward glance.

Arthur entered the courtyard and watched as the thirteen other knights paired up and sparred with each other, using their wooden weapons to their advantage as they would sometimes slap or hit each other with it just for sport. He picked up his own sword from the rack on the side and realized there was someone standing to his right. His eyes trailed, following the wall first, then it's crack, and finally landing on the smirking knight.

"Looks like it will be us who duel today." Lancelot obviously received a certain amount of pleasure out of this aspect.

The young boy didn't even glance around to check for stragglers, he knew it wouldn't matter; he wanted to fight Lancelot anyway. "So it does." They made their way to an unoccupied space to the side and began.

The loud echo of the wooden swords clashing had arisen Aislin and her new roommate, Vanora. After dressing they walked down the length of the balcony and watched the sparring with their own eyes. Aislin was taken by the fighting styles and the strength each knight possessed. It was as if there had been a rebellion and now there was a little mini battle, taking place right before her very eyes. She had never seen war before, so this was as real to her as anything.

Vanora cried out joyfully when her sights had finally fallen on Lancelot. All Aislin ever heard about was how wonderful he was, how noble, and caring. But Aislin thought none of these things about him; he was rude, ignorant, and deceptive. Poor Vanora had fallen for his act and now she was beginning to irk the ten year old with her girlish giggles.

"Look Aislin, come on I swear I won't rave on like I did before. Please just look! Look at who he is battling!" Vanora dragged Aislin to the edge of the balcony and forced her to look.

"Arthur," her heart tightened in her chest. Ever since the first supper the knights were given here, not more than a month ago, Arthur had taken it upon himself to loathe Lancelot enough for the both of them. Why? Aislin was not sure, it was not as if he had time to speak with his cousin any more, so why he still protected her interests when the event had long died out, she could not know.

The two boys lunged at each other, wood splintered as the swords clashed. Arthur continually blocked the blows not wanting to put down his guard for a second lunge. But on the last block all his balance went to the wind and he fell backwards into the dirt. The eleven year old moved to the side just fast enough to escape Lancelot's plunging sword. He whacked the edge of the sword right to the back of the knight's knee, causing him to drop to the ground.

Lancelot grabbed Arthur's ankle just as he was about to stand up and brought him crashing to the ground. Arthur grasped his sword and swung it at the older fighter who pushed his wrist down, pinning him to the dirt. Aislin's cousin struggled against the weight but found that he was stuck. He did the only thing he could think of doing, and raised his knee to the other boy's groin, successfully removing his weight and allowing Arthur an escape. The eleven year old placed the sword to the knight's neck in forced submission.

But the young one did not pay attention to the sword aimed at his heart. Though Lancelot was slightly doubled over, he was still able to raise his sword to Arthur. "That's enough boys! We are all on the same side here! Let us not forget that." General Silvanus had interrupted the dispute before it continued on. "Lessons are over for today!"

One by one the knights departed, dropping their swords at the rack as they left. Aislin and Vanora made their way down the stairs and into the courtyard, their eyes fixed on the two boys who now were putting away their swords. "Arthur!" Aislin ran to her cousin and embraced him warmly. Her face was buried in his shoulder so she did not have to look upon Lancelot, whose eyes were no doubt scowling at the two children.

Vanora stood alone at the other end of the courtyard. Her eyes swam back and forth between the two children and the boy who caused her heart to leap at every glance. Were they doomed to always butt heads? For she was a servant in Lady Acacia's villa and could not dishonor her mistress with her youthful love no matter how much she knew she would enjoy it.

Then he left, and the small mental dispute within her mind was over. She smiled and walked her own way, for today her heart was her own, but tomorrow will always be another day.

The two children still remained; Aislin still wrapped within her cousin, more support on her own behalf than his. She slowly removed herself and gazed into his floating hazel eyes. "Come Arthur, let us go." Her voice was strong and filled with joy. Aislin's cousin was back at her side, perhaps he would still befriend her and they could carry on as they used to.

"No," he stated bitterly, "you may go." His eyes became dark and apprehensive.

"Arthur?" Aislin's breathing became wavered; was he really telling me to leave? "Arthur, you can pick a fight with that stubborn cow another day, come. Your mother will want to-."

"I'm not talking about the stubborn cow, you may go." Aislin stepped away from him in disbelief. "You embarrassed me, Aislin, right here in front of my future knight!"

"It was Lancelot, what does he care if I hug you? I am your cousin, is it unusual that I should hug you? Your mother does, why can't I?" She shot back, her mind tumbling over these thoughts.

"It was not just the hug, the way you went about it. You came running out here as if I was lucky to survive. You babied me as if I couldn't do it. You did this right here in front of him, the one who I hate."

"I hate him too!" She cried hoping that her pain might allow him to see that she cared.

"Not like I do. You are a girl. You will never learn swordsmanship and be able to defend yourself against him. It is up to me, a boy to defend the females and our country. How can I do that if you are around?"

"I get it," the girl turned and ran. If she were older there were words she would have shared, words she would have cried out in a scream. She would have been wise about the act; she knew she would have bested him. How could he ask her to become invisible, to drop off the face of this earth? She was too hurt now for these unthinkable ramblings that would come to her with age, so instead she bolted on, and dropped herself somewhere in between depression and love.

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"Silvanus, she has not returned yet and it is after dark." Acacia fumbled in her words; a single tear fell onto the fabric of her dress staining it with invisible ink. "Please find her, I need to know that she is safe."

Arthur leaned against the cold frame of his door listening to the distress in his mother's voice. He had caused it, he caused it all and he knew it, yet he could not bring himself to help. Aislin had no right to have acted the way she did, he was not a child, he was a warrior to be. He could not be her companion and still be a wise commander, not when he was in charge of knights older than himself. He must out do them, had she not seen this? No, he would not help, not with all the stubbornness of a young adolescent coursing through his veins. He shut his door and ignored his mother's voice.

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"Did you see the old man? The way he jumped when he saw the animal?" A knight offered, his laughter jovial and yet obnoxious. Another remarked on their practical joke and joined in the joyful bellows.

Aislin stiffened and hid herself in the shadow of the alleyway, whilst muffling her sobs. The two young knights continued to carry on in their laughter not even noticing the girl who tried stealthily to leave out of the back of the alley. She crept her way down the stone path, checking over her shoulder every now and then to make sure that they hadn't caught her. One of the knights released a ferocious laugh that startled her and she bumped directly into a clay pot. It tipped over and crashed against the stone.

"Bors, did you here that?" The knight asked as he scanned the alleyway for any sign of life. His eyes caught a glimpse of the girl, but before he could remark she had taken off down the path.

He chased after her, ignoring the calls from his companion, Bors. He thumped down the path dodging miscellaneous things that cluttered his path. "Please stop! I want to talk to you!" He breathed inhaled sharply before shouting out to the girl once more. "You're the girl Aislin, are you not? Artorius' cousin?"

At this Aislin stopped and caught her breath, he knew her name. "Who are you?" She questioned in reply.

He moved up closer to her, his height towering over the young girl. "I'm Gwain, we knights were asked to keep a lookout for you. The Roman's said you had run off and feared you would try to return to the woods."

She became deathly silent; she had never spoken of her Woad heritage to anyone other than Arthur and her aunt Acacia. She decided to change the subject. "I suppose you'll be returning me to the villa, to my aunt?" She spoke humbly, her eyes never making contact with his.

"Don't you want to go back? You have royalties many would die to own. You have a family that worries about you and servants who serve you, you live like a queen, Lady Aislin of the great wall." He remarked with all.

At this she looked him straight in the eyes, he was trying to bribe her into returning, bribing her with things that she had already owned and accepted. "No, I do not wish to return." Aislin stated flatly. "The only one there who cares for my well being is my aunt. The Lady and Mistress of this wretched place. Everyone else would rather me gone." At his dumbfounded expression she continued, "for what I am, for the people I came from. They only have me here because I am my aunt's blood, Arthur's blood."

"You believe no one wishes you here? Not even your cousin?" Gwain repeated as if he could not believe these words.

"No, he says I am an embarrassment to him." She admitted halfheartedly.

"Well, Lady Aislin, in that case I have a proposition for you." Her interest had been peaked and she listened intently. "Why not stay with me and a few of the other knights for one night. If no one comes calling for you or there is no fuss over your disappearance then you were right and if you so wish, you may leave. But if there is fuss over you, if there is worry and grief you will return to the villa, to a family of aristocrats that love you. What do you say?"

"Am I safe with you, or is it better for me alone?"

He smiled, "child you have already won the protection of Tristan, you are safe."

-

"Now, stay right here. I'll go get Tristan and Bors will stay with you." Gwain informed the ten year old. "Bors make sure nobody sees her, if they do then we have no other choice than to hand her over and then our agreement will be over. So watch over her." The boy called Bors nodded. "Oh and make sure Lancelot does not see her, he cannot know or we're done for. He will rat us out and have our backs skinned just because of her." With that stated he entered the stable in hopes of finding his older comrade.

Aislin stood in the cool night air, her cape wrapped tightly around her body for warmth. "So you're the Woad girl?" She was caught off guard by Bors blunt comment.

At first she was apprehensive about his tone, but then she realized he was simply curious, so she let her temper fall. "Yes."

"What's it like over there, are they savages? Do they kill for sport?" His chubby head was bent towards her, his words spoken in a whisper.

Aislin merely glared at him for loss of words. Not to mention the distaste of his choice of vocabulary. She watched as his slit of a mouth rolled back into a disgusting grin. "I bet they are savages. Should be interesting foes."

"You speak as though you've fought battles before." Tristan had appeared from the stable, his sharp eyes landed on Aislin, and he gave her the briefest of smiles before returning his interest to Bors. "Stop trying to impress the girl. You're not intimidating her one bit, only irking her to the point of exhaustion."

"We've decided to keep Aislin hidden from the people of this garrison until tomorrow." Gwain explained, doing his best to move on to more important matters. "If there is distress over her absence she will return to her family, if there is not then she is free to leave with our assistance."

Tristan paced between the three conspirers, taking in the whole of the situation. He looked to Aislin for her agreement on this topic, and she nodded. "Why?" He asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't think you'd understand," she replied her voice equally low.

"Come with me," he motioned for her to follow him into the stable. When the other two preceded to follow he shook them away and continued to lead Aislin further into the dwelling.

"What of Lancelot? Isn't he in here?" She posed, remembering what Gwain has said.

"No," Tristan shook his head, his uneven hair shifting around his face. "He left, probably for the night." He turned at a stall and halted, nudging Aislin to come forward an see what as behind it. "This is Kade," the beauty of this magnificent beast amazed the ten year old. The horse's white coat was dappled with gray spots, and it's eyes were as dark as the night sky. Her fingers felt their way over the horse's snout, and she rubbed under it's chin, his whiskers ticking the palm of her hand.

"He is marvelously tame, and he rides as if he were a king." Tristan remarked at the perfections of his horse with such awe and wonder that Aislin was baffled. How could she have ever thought that this boy, this young man, would be so much of a danger to her? How could she have ever been afraid of him? "He had been my sister's horse before mine." She snapped awake at the melancholy nature of his statement.

"She rode this horse with every chance she had, she was in love with him. I taught her how to ride him, I watched as she took care of him and pet him, as you are doing now."

"If she loved him so much, why did she give him over to you?" Aislin scratched the beast behind his ears and smiled as he nudged her in return. But with one glance up at Tristan she knew that his sister hadn't given the Kade to him. He had been talking in past tense and she hadn't even accounted for the mood of his statements. "Oh, she's-."

"Dead, yes." He paused, swallowing the ball that seemed to be stuck in his throat. "She had become ill just before her tenth birthday. She struggled for weeks with the fever, she always had a strong will to live. But eventually it took her." He shook his head desperately trying to rid himself of the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. He had always been perceived as a strong young man, and he did not want to breakdown in front of this young girl and change that perception of himself forever.

"I'm sorry," Aislin was at a loss for words. What could she do?

"No, I tell you this because you remind me so much of her. You should not run away from the ones who love you, even if the weight of everything else around you seems as if it would crush you. Arthur is still your cousin. Yes I know of the fight, I have ears too." This thought made Aislin smile. "He loves you, though it may not show. Do not throw away your life. For you do not know the pain that is left behind after your departure."

Aislin's gray eyes brimmed with tears and she could not help but embrace Tristan. Though she was forced to laugh because he would not hold her in return. "It's all right, no one will think any different of you if you hug a ten year old girl, I promise you." His embrace was warm, and though it was quickly wiped away, she could feel the cold of a tear as it dropped from his eye onto her shoulder.

"Thank you." He quickly released her as the sound of footfalls became closer and heavier, until Gwain and Bors were right in front of them. "What is it?"

"It's the Woads, they're trying to breech the walls." Bors educated them, stopping to take a breath every few seconds.

Gwain, who had recovered his breathing, continued the speech for him. "They have already made it past the first gate and are now ramming the second one with a burning tree trunk." He stopped a moment and glanced over Aislin's horrified face. "The Roman archers are killing and wounding as many as possible but there are simply too many Woads. They're swarming the wall."

"What are we to do?"

"General Silvanus said to get as many of the townspeople into the cellars of the villa as possible and to protect them as need be."

Aislin glanced up at Tristan and no longer saw the fear of his past haunting his eyes but the determination of a deadly warrior. She felt more confident about her own life when she saw how he dealt with his. There was a way to separate your private life from war and battle; Arthur would simply have to learn that with time, as Tristan has. If they were to survive that night, that is.

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AN: I hope that explains to you why Tristan has acted the way he has around Aislin. And though you see a soft side of Tristan at the end of this chapter, that soft side will never completely resurface again. Simply because he is a man who does not show much emotion, he is mostly warrior and I will not destroy that aspect about him. He is still young in this chapter so it was acceptable to add some emotion but as he grows it will become more hidden. With that stated I would be glad to know your thoughts on this chapter as well as questions, so please review. Thanks, ta!