:GASP: my ducks, the moment has arrived! (well, not really--you still have to read up to the actual moment, after all) The moment you've all been waiting for (and nagging me about). Dum dum dum. Tristan makes his move. Granted, it might not be what you were expecting/hoping for, but hey, you can't have everything.
Enjoy!
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Codi bolted from the hall as soon as the lord rose, eager to be rid of the dress and her friends' strange looks. But, by the time she reached her room, Codi was beginning to have some second thoughts. She was a woman...and, after, all, she was spending the night by herself. She could feel female again with no one there to look at her strangely. Nodding briskly to herself, Codi grabbed her cloak and kicked off her shoes before heading back out.
As she turned a corner, a dark shape lurched forward, snatching at her. Codi skipped away and whipped a small knife out of her bodice, crouching defensively. In the dim torchlight, she could see a priest glaring at her from under his hood. Codi rolled her eyes. Just what she needed.
"Devil," he hissed. "Begone! Let not your evil taint this hall."
"Gladly," Codi said, and turned to go.
"You mock me!" The priest snatched at her sleeve, meaning to yank her back.
This time Codi slashed him sharply across the hand with her knife, leaving a small slice. She pointed the knife at him, letting him see his blood dripping from the tip.
"Touch me again," she said in a low voice, "and I will not be so restrained. Get out of my sight."
"You defy God's law," the priest snarled, somewhat manically. "Pagan witch—you will pay. You will know your proper place."
"I know my place very well," she informed him icily, and strode away. Muttering to herself, she added, "So much for wearing a dress."
Well, that was refreshing, Codi thought wryly as she left the town. She wasn't alone—plenty of young people were entering the wood for a night of revelry. She met Shasa just inside the tree line, where he had been skulking about, trying to avoid the merrymakers. Eager to be gone, he led the way, trotting briskly through the shadows cast by the bright crescent moon.
Grinning suddenly, she hiked up her skirts and sprang forward, startling Shasa as she shot past him. He recovered himself quickly and bounded after her, flicking her with his tail as he went by as if to say, nice try. For a long time they romped through the wood, darting after each other and rolling on the ground until they finally arrived at large rocky pool at the base of a small water fall. By this time, Codi was more than ready for a dip.
Quickly wriggling out of the dress and taking out the pins Brenna had put in her hair, Codi slipped into the water with a small gasp. The water was bitingly cold, though the night was warm. Shasa even joined her for a little bit, paddling after her as she swam around the pool. Giggling, she swam underneath and emerged behind him, tugging his tail. He glared balefully at her over his shoulder and climbed out of the pool, shaking vigorously. With a sneeze of disdain, he trotted off into the darkness.
"Lovely night for a dip."
Codi smiled from where she floated on her back in the concealing shadow of a rock. "Hullo, Tristan. Have you finished a-Maying, then?"
"I never spend Beltane 'a-Maying'," he told her.
"Why?" Codi asked, surprised. Tristan, while not the complete man-whore that Lancelot was, was hardly celibate.
She saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye and peeked around her rock. "Just my contrary nature, I suppose."
"You are a rather perverse creature," Codi agreed.
"No more so than you," he returned amiably. "You looked quite nice in that dress, you know—which is now, I see, crumpled and dirty and about to fall into the water."
"Don't gloat," she scolded as he rescued the garment in question. "It didn't do any good, anyway."
Tristan looked at her sharply—or rather, at the rock she was hiding behind. "What do you mean?"
Codi told him about the priest and swam out from behind her rock, careful to let only her head and neck show. Tristan frowned thoughtfully.
"I doubt it's more than ruffled feathers," he concluded. "But you'd best be careful, just in case—you never know what those madmen will do."
"I thought as much," Codi agreed. Grinning, she flicked a few drops of water at him. "Come on in," she urged. "The water's fine—there's only a slight chance of frostbite, anyway."
"I don't think so, lass," he replied, eying the water warily.
"Coward."
After a fair amount of cajoling, coaxing, insults, and ridicule, Tristan finally agreed.
"Turn around, then," he said gruffly. "And no peeking."
"I wouldn't dream of it," she murmured.
A small splash and muffled cursing heralded Tristan's entry into the pool. Codi turned to see him clinging to a rock and glowering darkly at her. Hastily turning a laugh into a hacking cough, she drifted closer.
"You didn't tell me twas too deep to touch," he accused, scowling.
"What, you can't swim?" She asked, genuinely surprised.
"I never exactly had a lot of spare time in which to learn, did I?" Tristan snapped, still clutching his rock.
Codi laughed, unable to help herself, but checked herself at Tristan's indignant glare. "No, no—I'm not laughing at you. I'm just used to thinking of you as...as...i don't know, I just never imagined you not knowing how to swim."
"I can swim," he said defensively. "Just—not well."
"Poor boy," Codi said sympathetically. "Here, I'll show you—Tristan, you're going to have to let go of the rock. There we go. Now kick your legs back and forth—no, no, no, you're trying to bring them up and down--"
After a few minutes of treading water, Codi tried to explain breast stroke, which seemed easiest. Tristan floundered about for a bit and then decided that his pride couldn't handle any more abuse and ordered her back behind her rock while he dressed.
"I'm decent," he called. "I'll build a fire while you dress."
Codi slithered out of the water and dried herself with her cloak before pulling on the dress. Gratefully, she plopped down next to Tristan with her back to the fire to let her hair dry. It had grown quite long in the—Christ, had it really been two years since she arrived? Two years since she had last seen her father? Since she had been home? Suddenly Tristan's voice echoed in her head. A home is wherever you make one. Aye, that was true.
"What are you thinking about?" Tristan asked softly, touching her shoulder.
"About my father," she sighed. "And home. Do you think of your home very often?"
"Sometimes," he admitted, leaning back on his elbows and stretching long legs out in front of him. "But this place is my home, now. I'm bound here by the same vow that binds you...I've made my peace with it."
"I know what you mean," Codi said, and smiled faintly. "But I think I'll measure every place I see by my own birthplace and find it somehow lacking. There's no place in the world like West Virginia."
"Tell me about your home," Tristan urged. "You've never said much about it."
Codi hesitated and stalled by braiding her hair, which was no longer sopping wet, then sighed and began. "West Virginia is...gorgeous. I lived on a farm in the foothills of the Allegheny mountains with my father—he trained race horses for a wealthy family. The weather there is milder—it doesn't rain nearly so much. Warmer, too, though winters there were no joke, sometimes. There were lots of horse farms around us—most were riding academies, though. I wanted to train horses like my dad."
"A woman?" Tristan asked dubiously. "I believe I've mentioned something of a sort before, but Arthur is an unusually liberal-minded man. I doubt any other man would treat you as more than a doll at best or a piece of meat at worst."
"Besides you, you mean?" Codi asked sardonically. "Merlin, for one."
"Another Roman," Tristan clarified.
Codi bit her lip, then made up her mind. She might as well tell him the whole of it. "The family wasn't Roman. No Roman ever set foot in my homeland. It lies far to the west across the ocean in a land called America. Right now only the natives live there—tribal people much like the Woads. But in a bit more than a thousand years it will be discovered by an Italian named Christopher Columbus and claimed for Spain. In the year of our Lord—well, their Lord—1492, to be exact." Tristan had gone very still and was staring inscrutably at her through narrowed eyes. Feverishly, she plowed on. "From then on Europeans—people from the land across the channel in the south—began to settle it, claiming different portions. Eventually Britain controlled most of the land but lost it in the Revolution—Americans wanted to govern themselves. Kind of made a botch of it for a while, if truth be told, but that's not the point. The point is that West Virginia is a state—that's sort of the same thing as a province—of America. The United States of America. There's fifty of them." Realizing that she was babbling almost incoherently, Codi suppressed a hysterical giggle and shut her mouth firmly.
"Codi," Tristan said slowly. "Are you telling me that you're from the future?"
"Er—yes. About fifteen hundred years into the future, actually."
Tristan nodded calmly. "Ah. That explains a lot."
"You believe me?" Codi asked incredulously.
"Silly lass, of course I do. I know you well enough to know when you're lying—it doesn't happen often, after all." Tristan hesitated, shooting a glance at her almost shyly. Almost—Tristan was never shy. "I thought it might be something of that sort, really."
Codi blinked. "You—you did?"
"Well—I knew you were not from this world the first time I laid eyes on you. That much was certain." Tristan shrugged and smiled crookedly. "I thought perhaps you were from the world of Faerie. There are stories, you know, of lasses being taken by the Folk and waking up years and years later. I suppose it's not so far fetched that you got sent back, instead."
"Oh," Codi said weakly. "You really believe me?"
"Don't be daft," Tristan growled. "You're not mad and you're not a liar."
Feeling an insane urge to laugh and cry at once, Codi pounced on him and threw her arms about his neck. Tristan's elbows gave way and he hit the ground with a muffled "Oof!" He laughed, wrapping his arms about her waist, and hugged her tightly. Then something odd happened. One moment he was merely Tristan—her friend and comrade—and then...inexplicably, something changed.
Codi was suddenly very aware of how warm and solid he was and how strong and secure his arms were, holding her close. Tristan was no longer laughing. His breathing was even, but energy seemed to crackle about him like a cloud, sparking wherever they touched. And they were touching in rather a lot of places, Codi observed giddily.
One of Tristan's hands glided slowly up from her waist, making her shiver. The hand traced a lazy circle on her back and moved to trace the line of her jaw, then her lips, nose, eyes and cheeks. Codi held still, hardly breathing and unable to move—Tristan's eyes held her captive more surely than a chain. The hand came to rest, cupping her cheek gently.
"You are beautiful, you know," he said softly. He brushed back a stray lock of hair and kissed her gently.
Codi gasped against his mouth, amazed at the sensations coursing through her. Tristan cradled her face tenderly as he kissed her, as if she might break. Codi trembled—she wanted him. She wanted him badly, and it frightened her. Already she felt as if she were drowning and part of her was only too happy to give herself over to the powerful current that tugged her along. The other part was yammering madly, screaming at her to run before she lost herself completely. If she let this continue—Codi was desperately frightened. Frightened that she would lose the self she had worked so hard to rebuild after bandits had stolen more than just her virginity.
With a cry, Codi wrenched herself away with such force that she lost her balance and felt backward. She scuttled away as Tristan sat up slowly, as if she were a skittish horse that might bolt at any moment. Codi scrambled to her feet, breath coming in short, fast gasps.
"Codi," Tristan said softly. "You needn't be afraid."
"And why not?" Codi asked, somewhat hysterically. "I think I've damn good reason to be afraid."
"Of me?" Tristan demanded. The force of those two words rocked her for a moment. "What reason do you have to be afraid of me?" He stood carefully. "It was I who found you in the forest, I who nursed you back to health, I who sent for your mother when I could do more. That is all I have ever done, Codi—care for you. You have no reason to fear me."
While he spoke, he moved slowly but surely toward her until he was less than an arm's length away. He picked up one of Codi's hands and placed it over his heart.
"My heart will stop beating before I do you harm," he said quietly.
"I'm sorry," Codi whispered raggedly. "I can't. I just—can't."
She snatched her hand from his grasp and backed away before turning and plunging into the forest. Tristan gazed after her, unmoving. After a long moment, he sat down and stared blindly into the fire.
Codi tore through the forest, heedless of the branches that slapped her face, and called wildly for Shasa within her mind. Without warning, Codi found herself on her knees in a small clearing. Shasa erupted from the underbrush and came immediately to her side. He nuzzled and pawed at her, whining anxiously. Codi wrapped her arms about him and buried her nose in his ruff, shaking uncontrollably. She had come so close—so close, but she had saved herself. She was still free, still strong, still independent of any man. Why then did she feel so alone, even with Shasa's warm, furry bulk pressed comfortingly against her face?
As Codi continued to shake and tremble, neither girl nor wolf noticed the cloaked figure that stole silently away.
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in case anyone was wondering--no, I'm not from West Virginia. I live in northwest New Jersey, in the foothills of the Appalachians, not the Alleghenies. For all you Americans who are under the mistaken impression that New Jersey is the armpit of the America, visit Sussex County sometime and you will see that it's a far cry from Hoboken or Newark. No one here but us chickens. Er--well, actually it's mostly cows and horses (with some sheep thrown in for good measure) but there is this daft person who lives on rt 206 who lets his chickens run loose on the side of the highway.
anyway. Review.