Adara stood in the small one-roomed house that she had shared with her husband for the last four years. She was kneading bread on the rough table, her hands and dress floury and her hair escaping from the plait it was in.
Though her demeanour was as calm as always: her face placid, her movements relaxed, inwardly, she was sobbing. She had lost him. Before, there had always been the chance that she might meet him again, the chance that he would remember her. But now…now she had ruined her only opportunity.
She was in no doubt now that he hated her. If she learnt that he had taken a wife in the four years that they had been separated, she would certainly be angry. And so she gave up hope of her son ever knowing his father.
Outside, Lucan sat, playing with a puppy. The two were fighting over a stick; the puppy's tail wagging frantically as he growled his miniature growl. Lucan, growling back at the puppy, was suddenly aware of a mounted man coming into the clearing around their house, and he dropped the stick, the game forgotten.
"Mama! Mama!" Lucan cried, not taking his eyes off the stranger on the black horse.
Adara, hearing her son's frantic cry, rushed out of the house, only to be brought up short by the sight of the man on the horse.
Dagonet looked down at Adara, her hair ruffled up, flour on her hands and skirts, and the most adorable spot of flour on the end of her nose.
"I'm ready to listen," he said haltingly, and was immediately gratified by the relief flooding across Adara's face.
"Lucan," she said, kneeling to talk to her son. "Will you help Dagonet sort out his horse while I get dinner ready?"
Lucan nodded importantly, puffed up by the responsibility given to him. Adara straightened up, laughter in her eyes.
"Can I ride your horse?" Lucan asked, looking nervously back at his mother, amazed at his own daring.
"We'll have to ask your mother about that," Dagonet said, grinning at the small boy, who then looked imploringly at Adara.
"Oh alright then!" Adara said, pretending to be cross. "But don't be too long, or you'll miss your supper."
With a whoop Lucan ran to his mother, who lifted him and placed him in the saddle in front of Dagonet. She smiled fondly at her son, and having ensured he was safe in Dagonet's grasp, she went inside to sort out dinner.
They ate together, listening to Lucan chatter on about Dagonet's horse, and his ambition to be a horse himself when he grew up. Eventually the boy exhausted the topic, and crawled onto his mother's lap to promptly fall asleep.
Adara kissed the top of his head, and sat contentedly. She was in a warm house, with the firelight flickering on her face, her son in her arms and the man she loved beside her. She and Dagonet were perfectly content to sit there together for some time, neither wanting to breach the unpleasant subject that was looming.
Eventually Dagonet broke the silence.
"You said he was almost four," he said, nodding towards the peacefully sleeping Lucan. "It was just over four years ago that…that," his voice choked up and he was unable to finish.
"He is yours," Adara said simply.
Dagonet sat, contemplating this for a moment. "Then why?" he asked, anguish wriien plainly on his face.
Adara buried her face in her son's soft curls, and when she raised it a tear rolled down one cheek.
"I was pregnant with the child of a Sarmatian," she said, pain audible on every word. "If I had not married, they would have realised," she turned her eyes up to Dagonet, pleading with his to show understanding.
"No one knew?" he asked quietly.
Adara shook her head. "They thought he was my husband's child."
"Why, why didn't you just come back to me when you found out?"
Adara looked at him scornfully. "I didn't know if you even remembered me! And I was too proud to go crawling back to you." She paused. "Besides. There was always Tristan."
Dagonet sat with a small frown on his face. "You knew?" he asked, incredulous.
"That he once loved a Woad?" Adara asked, raising her eyebrows. "Of course I knew," she hesitated. "She was my sister."
Dagonet leaned back, trying to understand what she was saying to him. "You mean… the woman Tristan loved was your sister?"
Adara nodded, and Dagonet whistled slowly. "And yet you still…"
"Went to your bed?" Adara asked, arching one eyebrow. She shrugged. "Yes."
"But the risk!"
Adara shrugged again. "Don't you think I knew? I saw my sister killed for loving a Sarmatian, I saw that Sarmatian then ride in, too late to save her, and kill every Woad he could lay his hands on. I saw a good man turn to a monster because of the woman he loved. Believe me, I knew the risk." She sighed. "Don't you understand? That's why I couldn't let anyone find out."
Dagonet let out one long, shaky breath. They sat in silence for a moment, before Dagonet spoke.
"Your husband?" he asked in a flat tone.
Adara understood his meaning instantly.
"I never loved him," she said in a small voice. "He was a good man, and I believe he loved me. He adored Lucan, certainly. Merlin arranged the match. It was far better than I could ever have hoped…and yet," she looked up and met Dagonet's eyes.
"Gods I've missed you!" she finished fiercely.
A/N – OK so the thing about Tristan is a bit obscure. Basically it will be another story after I've done with this: why Tristan kills for pleasure. I might even have to start posting it up before this one's done. I'm getting impatient to get it started! Please R&R as ever!