An Optimist's Dream in a Time of Darkness:

Chapter 6: To Start Anew

AN: I thank you all for your lovely reviews. I would like to say that in this chapter there is a song, the song does not belong to me it belongs to Cassie Franklin and the people who created Cold Mountain. One of the words is off because I had to change it work for this story… but again I have no ownership whatsoever over the lyrics. With that said, I took a lot of time on this chapter, and I think it came out very well. So I hope you enjoy. Thanks!

-

The days that passed by were blurred together in one long stream of grief. So many had died on that fateful day, so many which should not have ever been touched by the descending sword of heathens. For many who had survived the past had dissipated from their grasp and now they were forced to change, to adapt to a new way of life. Men were set to work at rebuilding the gates and dwellings, women were sent out to find what was left of the livestock, and children were placed to help out with whatever they could.

But there was an eerie silence that settled over the village of Hadrian's wall, no one truly spoke they simply went about their ways as they were told. General Silvanus had been killed during battle and his subordinate was now in charge, belting out orders as soon as they crossed his mind. He was a stocky man with beady eyes and a hooked nose, much like the beak of a falcon. None of the knights had agreed to his terms of command but there was truly nothing they could do about it. If you plan to survive you do not turn your back on those who can help you live.

Arthur had almost turned into a ghost; he rarely spoke to anyone, he was always drifting around never truly staying in one place or the next, and he had grown sickly over the days of the aftermath. His usually bright vibrant green eyes had dimmed and fogged over with depression, his hair had become oily and unkempt, and his overall appearance was hollow. The people of the village had become accustomed to his somber nature for it was the same somberness that everyone could understand; he simply wore his grief on the outside whereas theirs was within themselves.

Everyday he would walk the long winding path through the cemetery and gaze out at all the new graves that had been dug within the days prior to it. Though his mind and soul were only set on one grave, a grave that would never be dug, a grave that could only be held in his mind, his own grave. There was no one in the world that could convince him that he had not died, for he had, or a part of him had atleast. His innocence of life had been robbed from him, plucked from his soul at such a young age that it is hard to imagine life without it. The things he had seen would trouble him in the months to come, within years he would use it for thought and strategy, and eventually revenge for what he had lost. But for that moment, as it was fresh in his mind, sorrow is what overtook him.

-

Aislin had not yet awoken from her dreary slumber. She was paler then the snow that threatened to fall at any moment outside, and as worn as the men who slaved everyday, since the siege, at building and rebuilding. Vanora was by her side at all hours; whether it be to pat her forehead with warm water, change her clothes, speak with her, or even to simply watch over her. She was always there.

The thatch door brushed the floor as it was opened allowing candle light from the hall to pour in and illuminate a pathway for the guest. Gawain placed a comforting hand on Vanora's shoulder and gently woke her. She had fallen into a light sleep on the stool with her back up against the wall, a very uncomfortable rest. "How is she?"

"Still sleeping," Vanora released a deep sigh, "at this point I don't know if she'll ever wake up. She just lays there stiff as a bored. She hasn't ever moved on her own, I've had to rotate her every couple of hours so that her limbs don't freeze up." She shook her head and allowed her tears to drain in her hands for a few moments before she gasped and spoke up once more. "I don't know if what I'm doing is even helping, I mean I'm running out of options here, Gawain. I just- I just don't know what to do anymore." At that point she let everything go and broke down in sobs.

"Shh, she'll wake up." He wrapped his arms around her and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder for comfort. "Your doing everything you can, she'll wake up." His hand petted the back of her head in a soothing motion as an effort to calm her down.

"She sometimes will whisper in her sleep, fragments of nothing. Sometimes they're names other times just a jumble of words. I don't know what to make of it. I wish she would just open her eyes and say something to me, anything so long as I knew she was alive." Vanora gave a slight giggle at the thought of all the insults the two of them would deliver to each other. "Tristan sent you up here, didn't he?"

Gawain was forced to smile, "yes, he did. He would've come up here himself, but with his wound he can't. It had been enough strain on his leg to bring her here, for now my words will need to be enough for him."

Vanora pulled out of the embrace, "he's always worrying about her. Every time I go to fetch food, or water, or anything and I walk by his chamber he asks me how she is. Whether she has woken up or not."

"He won't admit it but he does care for her, I'm not sure what his reasons are, but he does care."

"How could anyone not care for her?" Vanora posed as she rubbed her eyes dry of tears.

"Lancelot manages somehow." The knight chuckled heartily as the thought of Lancelot's bickering with the ten-year-old came to mind. "Now come, your exhausted. You should go rest, I'll watch over her for now."

The young woman nodded in agreement, "thank you."

"I'll get Galihad to walk you downstairs." Gawain stood up and walked out of the thatch door.

Vanora gazed out over Aislin's limp body, "I will come back in the morning. Gawain will be here to watch over you until then." She leaned over and grasped the girl's hand and held it tightly within the palm of her own. "Aislin don't leave, please Oh God in heaven don't take her from us." Vanora kissed her friend's hand and then covered her up with an extra fur before turning to leave.

"No," Aislin's eyes stirred beneath their lids. "No! No more blood!"

Vanora spun around, her eyes wide with shock. "Aislin! Aislin your awake!" She dropped down next to the bed and latched onto Aislin's arm.

"No more blood, please no more!" She cried out as she opened her eyes. "No more!" The young girl screamed in terror, her voice echoing in the hall.

"Aislin, Aislin stop! Settle down!"

"Get it off! Get it off!" She began tearing at her clothes and scratching her forehead in a rampage. Aislin flung herself on the floor in a desperate attempt to escape whatever was ailing her. "No more blood! Get it off!"

The older girl ran to her side and restrained her, "It's all right Aislin! There is no more blood. It is gone. You are safe, it is over." Tears slipped from Vanora's wide eyes as she rocked Aislin back and forth to calm her down. "It's over, you are safe."

Gawain and Galihad burst into the room their faces panic stricken, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Shh, I'm fine. I think she still thought she was on the battlefield." The young woman kissed her friend's head, and closed her own eyes. Vanora thought of the innocent Aislin, the youthful and jovial Aislin, and knew she was no more. This child had been forced to see things beyond her years, things she could not possibly begin to comprehend, and if she were to make it out of this delusional state she would never be the same. Vanora forced away the thought, she is still my Aislin, and nothing has changed that. I can help her be the person she once was. "But she'll be fine now," she paused and allowed a single tear to drain from her eye. "I hope," her muffled prayer was not even noticed by the two knights.

Gawain stepped further into the room, "Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, no I think I'll be fine." She opened her eyes and watched as Gawain headed for the door. In truth she needed help, she had no idea how to care for this ailing child, but she was too stubborn of a person to ask for any advice. "Gawain!" She paused thinking of what to say, "tell Tristan that she is awake." The knight nodded and left the two girls alone in the darkness.

-

"Do you think she will make it?" Galihad, who was a year younger than Aislin, was by far the youngest knight brought to Hadrian's Wall. He was sent to the cellars with the rest of the townspeople when the attack occurred, and rightfully so otherwise he might have ended up as Aislin had.

"That is not for me to predict." Gawain shrugged and urged Galihad to walk with him down the hall. "I saw her cousin, Arthur, out on the field. I saw him run to the burial mounds, I saw him retrieve a sword, and I saw him with the will to use it. I also saw Aislin overcome with so much grief that she ran straight through the slaughter and begged Merlin himself to end this battle. There are not many people here who would've done that." His voice trailed off and he decided that instead of rambling he would make his point evident. "I see her courage measured next to her cousin's and I find them to be the same in amount but different in use. Do you understand?"

"Not truly, no." Galihad admitted meekly.

"She is a girl, someone with no experience in warfare and with no desire to use it if she had any. She would not be the one to charge the battlefield; her courage is tested by the aftermath. By how she holds up after the battle is done when all the grief and sorrow rains down on her people. I see what she has done and I believe that this is the first of many wounds to be healed in her lifetime." His smile broadened, "but those are just my thoughts. You make what you want of them." With a yawn he waved his young friend off and headed toward his own cot.

-

"Vanora, Vanora." Aislin poked her companion in the side to try and wake her. "Vanora won't you wake up?"

"I'm awake, just merely resting my eyes is all," her voice was coarse and her tone slightly annoyed.

"Oh," Aislin lay on the bed facing her friend's closed eyes with a sense of boredom. It had been several days since she woke up and though she was still very morbid her overall appearance was much brighter. "Are we going to lay in bed all day? I feel as if I've had enough sleep to last my entire lifetime."

"You may get up if you want to, but I personally feel that it is much warmer here under these blankets. It provides you with a nice comfortable sleep." Vanora bundled herself up in the wool blankets and pretended to have a chill.

"I thought you were just resting your eyes," Aislin questioned.

"You know what, come here you!" The older girl grabbed a hold of Aislin and pulled her underneath the blankets with her. "You're going to stay right here with me and I'm going to tickle you to death or until you surrender, whichever should come first." In a spout of laughter Aislin tried her best to escape from Vanora's tickling fingers and failed miserably.

"Give! Give!" Aislin shouted in an effort to stop the poking fingers.

"Good," Vanora sighed and rolled back under her covers. Her voice became muffled from the wool being over her mouth as she spoke. "Now when I am finished resting my eyes I will do something nice with your hair and we can go down and help Grockus with the crops."

The young girl gave a weak smile before climbing from the cot and making her way over to the singed window. The sky was clouded over with a gray fog and the land was so pale it seemed colorless. It had fit perfectly with Aislin's disposition and she loathed it. Perhaps if there had been better weather with sunny blue skies it would have been easier for her to cope with her pain, instead it hindered her progress.

Her tears had all but dried up and she did not have any words left within her to mourn those who had died, she had become empty. Aislin did have little moments of happiness; moments when Vanora had managed to make her laugh or smile, moments when she managed not to think of her Aunt, of what she had seen, of Arthur's agony. At those points she had been genuinely pleased, but once they had ended, faded into the hazed background of her thoughts, she returned to her depression.

As Aislin gazed out over the nearly barren fields she saw her cousin. His hunched figure moped about, weaving itself in and out of the fence. She thought of their silly games and their jokes, things that at one time had brought her the most joy, and she found that she missed them. Perhaps seeing and speaking with Arthur would improve both of their conditions.

He stood just outside of the cemetery when she finally found him. His dark hair lying around his face in a disheveled mess, his tunic and cloak soiled with mud. She had not the idea of how to approach him. He had not come to see her since she woke up and the last thing she can remember him saying to her was that she was an embarrassment to him. Aislin wanted to speak with him, she wanted him to cheer her up, but now she saw that he would not be the one to brighten her spirits. For his wee just as dank as hers were.

She bit her lip and stepped forward, "Arthur?"

His eyes rose to meet hers and once they had she felt his cold glare penetrate through her to her soul. His glare froze her entire being for it was one of disgust of loathing. She felt herself become sick and turned her back before he could see her illness take control of her. She opened her mouth and began hacking as if to vomit; all the pain she had been able to release, all the tears that had dried up, and all the ailments that she had healed from hurled back to her at full force. Aislin saw the hate in his face, saw the discontent and knew that he wanted nothing to do with her. She had lost her best friend for good.

She dropped to the ground, doubled over, and held her arm to her stomach. Aislin could taste the foul puke rising in her throat until it finally poured over and spilled from her lips. Tears of sorrow dripped from her fogged eyes as she wept over her weakness and childishness. He walked past her, never glancing down to see her pain, and never stopping to help. He had become cold, how could she have ever thought he would want to see her, to look at what she had become; weak, pitiful, and plain.

The young girl watched him leave and she felt something within her ignite, something that was born of her sorrow; anger. She brushed herself off, dried her tears, and followed him. The hem of her dress traipsed through the mud as she scurried after him. He stopped in front of a burned down dwelling and she knew at once where she was. Vanora had told her how her aunt had past on, how she was burned alive in the fire.

"Hating me will not bring her back!" She shouted at his back. "I am not my people! I did not kill my own aunt, I did not attack my village, and I did not hurt you!"

Arthur dropped down on to his knees, his shoulders shaking from his sobs. Aislin bit her cheek as she walked towards him. "You are my blood, Arthur, my family, and I love you." She bent down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Tears ran down the length of her cheeks; she had no thought as to where her strength came from on that day. No inclination on why she decided to go after him when it seemed so impossible for her to even feel optimistic, but she had.

He turned and faced her, his eyes waterlogged and his face pink from crying so suddenly and so powerfully. There were no words between the two children, no audible agreement, just peace as Arthur buried his head into his cousin's shoulder. They knew things would never be as they were, but now they had a chance to start anew.

-

Five years had passed since that day and still it stayed as fresh in Aislin's mind as if it had been yesterday. Every year she would return to the same spot and lay down a bouquet of wild flowers in appreciation of what her aunt had done for Arthur and herself. She believed that Acacia's death had not been in vain, that through her death Arthur and herself were able to be brought back together by a means Aislin could not have done on her own.

"Once he kissed her lilly white hand, twice he kissed her cheek," the young woman sang as she strolled into the town from the field. "Three times he kissed her-."

"Sounds like a very pleasing song, are you thinking about your true love?" As his black steed blocked her path she heard his irking voice wretch its way into her thoughts. Lancelot sat proudly on his horse awaiting her reply with a playful smile dancing across his lips.

Aislin thought it best to answer him with the rest of the line, for it was self-explanatory. "Three times he kissed her cold corpsey lips and fell into her arms asleep." She ducked under his horse's neck and continued on her way, admiring her beautiful array of flowers all the while. "He asked is Lady Margaret in her room, or is she out in the hall?"

His smile broadened and he led his horse down the other alley, "I'll take that as a no?"

She sang louder in response, "for Lady Margaret lay in her cold black grave with her face turned to the wall!" Aislin shrugged off the little incident and went about her business as usual.

The young woman followed the path down around the bend and up to the rotting remains of a burned down home and the growth of shrubbery and vines. She knelt down before the ashes and laid the bouquet at the base. "Good morning Aunt Acacia, as always I've brought you a fresh bunch of our finest flowers. Arthur's been doing fine, he trains daily with his knights and the Roman Legions. Lancelot and him seemed to be getting along very well now; ever since the siege Arthur's had more and more respect for the brute. I suppose most of it is due to his protection of me, and yet I can feel no compassion to the mindless dog." Aislin groaned in frustration.

"Vanora is still my closest ally next to Arthur. She has found herself a man to love; a man she should rightfully wed but still has not come around to doing so. His name is Bors; he's one of Arthur's knights, a good man, a little rowdy, but a good man. She has one son with him already, Cabe, he's about a year old now. And I? Well I'm fine on my own, always have been. Besides my sixteenth birthday is coming up soon, five days I believe, I haven't been keeping track. Lady Baximus says that is the age when a girl becomes a woman."

"Oh Aunt, I wish you could see us here. We have become a great colony, soon Arthur will assume command over the entire garrison, and I will be a woman. I never forget what you have given me, a life of freedom, a life of which I will make the best of. I will not let you down. God bless you and keep you Acacia." Aislin bowed her head and turned to leave.

Aislin made her way back through the town towards the stable. She entered the enclosed fortress; it was dark with only a few flickers of light from the roof to illuminate her pathway. She made her way to Kade's stall and found him with his head protruding from behind the gate. "Good morning old friend." She patted his snout gently and unbolted the gate. "Do you want to be brushed?" As if to respond he nayed and knocked his head into her shoulder. "Yes, you do."

She took his reigns and led him out of the stall and into the center of the stable before tieing the leather straps to a post. Aislin retrieved the bores- hair brush and began to brush the animal's fur in light stroking motions. She listened intently to the sound of his breathing and the ruffles of his hair as it passed through the bristle of the brush. Her mind was in a daze; the sweeping motion of her arms and the calm silence placed her in a very relaxed state of being. It was something that every once in a while she needed to do to unload the pressure.

Arthur entered the stable his footfalls heavy and yet proud. He made his way down the stretch to where Aislin stood, stroking the beast. "Hello Cousin," she was the first to speak.

Arthur smiled and sat on a bench opposite the horse. "Why is it you never pay your respects on the day she died, but two seasons later?" His question was not to be rude but more or less to gain information. Most of the time that is how Arthur and Aislin spoke to each other, no fancy words, no lies, just blunt statements.

"There are no flowers of which I like in fall." She replied cooly.

"Then why do you not invite me to pay respects with you?"

"Do you not speak with your God alone?" The young woman posed. "I simply like to speak with my aunt alone. It is a matter of preference not of duty." She sat the brush down on the stall and walked around to Arthur, "are you upset with me?"

He took a minute to think out his response, "No, no." He shook his head and stood to leave.

"You are." Her voice was one of pleasant surprise not of anger or sadness. "You are upset with me. Sit and tell me why. What have I done this time?"

"It's nothing you did, it's just." He paused glancing at her curious face. She had changed greatly since he first met her. Her hair was no longer cropped to her shoulders but fell around mid back and was more yellow blond than before, her face had matured and was somewhat weathered, and her height had changed dramatically, there was only a head left in between Aislin and himself. But it was not only her appearance that had changed but also her attitude; she lived to change now, when before she lived to keep things together. "It is nothing you can help with."

"Well atleast you can tell me about it, that way it might not distress you as much." She extended her arm to offer a seat on the bench.

He swallowed his pride and sat down. "Now what I'm about to tell you-."

"Yes, I know can't be told to another soul. I get it, go on."

She knew him well, which is what had made this so difficult to tell her. "I have been asked," he held himself back, he couldn't tell her.

"You have been asked… what?"

His eyes closed and he spat it all out with as much dignity as he could, "if you would take a husband on your sixteenth birthday. He is a Roman from another garrison just a few miles north of the wall. He is twenty and would be a good protector and provider for you."

Aislin stood from the bench her mind drifting in and out. Arthur pressed on, "they tell me he is well mannered, attractive, and wealthy."

"You? You want me to leave? To marry a Roman and have Roman babies in another place, a place where I can never see my friends or family again." She paused her mind swelling with so many emotions. "Arthur, you want me to leave?"

"Aislin I-."

"No, answer me. Do you want me to leave?" Her voice had become brittle.

"No, of course I don't. But I don't have a say in it," he took a breath, "and neither do you."

She collapsed to the floor in confusion, "married? I'm going to be married?"

"I'm sorry, I-." He bent down to help her up.

"No, it's okay. You had nothing to do with it. You couldn't stop any of it." Aislin applied pressure to her head to try and stop the spinning. "I'm tired, I think I'll go lay down for a little while." She began to walk away and took one fleeting look back at Arthur, "can you put Kade away?" She saw his shadowed image nod before she completely left the stable.

-

AN: So yes, marriage… sounds interesting doesn't it? I had to do it. I must admit I wasn't going to originally and then I was like oh heck with it… it gives the story spice. So the next few chapters for me will be rather enjoyable, and I hope you find them enjoyable as well. Until then, thanks for the reviews and I'll c ya later!