Almost Had It All
Sorry, yet again for the delay. Once my exams were over, I just wanted to have a couple days where I didn't have to do anything (I'm sure you all know the feeling I'm talking about!), before I began writing the next chapter. Well, that was my plan–until I got sick. So, sorry again. Hopefully, you'll like the chapter.
Chapter Fourteen: Keep Me Away
You can not hide from me
I will be there
You say that we're nothing
I say you're scared
Do you know what I know
Do you even care
can you see what's coming baby
it's so crystal clear
And don't you know
this hurts me more than bleeding
And don't you know
I cannot fight this feeling
And don't you go
can you not hear me screaming
No, No
You say that you fear me
why do you lie
I say that you love me
must you deny
Do you know what I know
do you even care
can you see me coming baby
it's so crystal clear
And don't you know
this hurts me more than bleeding
And don't you know
I cannot fight this feeling
And don't you go
can you not hear me screaming
No, No
And I want you to miss me right now
and I want you to feel me somehow
And I want you to taste what you doubt
and I want you to want me too
and I want you to want me
And don't you know
this hurts me more than bleeding
And don't you know
I cannot fight this feeling
And don't you go
can you not hear me screaming
No, No
Shut up
you wanted me
shut up
you needed me
Shut up
you wanted me
Shut up
you care
"Bleeding" The Prom Kings
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470 A.D.
Hadrian's Wall...
Tristan's eyes popped open the next morning as Aylin shifted in her sleep next to him.
He lay on his stomach–she on her back–with his arm draped over her waist (avoiding her wound) and watched her in the early morning light.
Despite her injuries and vicious bruising, her beauty was obvious to him. Dark lashes curled against her cheeks. Black hair wild against the pillows. Tristan felt that tightening in his chest once again, and closed his eyes to it, refusing to think on what it might mean.
His eyes opened yet again to view her and the steady rise and fall of her naked chest with each breath she took. But that, of course, made Tristan close his eyes once more at the tightening in another certain part of his body.
How much he would love to have another round of their previous activities, but Tristan was loathe to wake her.
So, he slowly removed his arm and quietly got up from the bed and dressed.
With one last look at a sleeping Aylin, the scout left the room.
oOoOoOoOo
Half an hour later, when Aylin woke, she didn't know wether to be hurt or relieved that Tristan had gone without a word.
If he'd stayed, it would no doubt have been awkward–as neither of them had ever had much practice with intimacy outside of the physical aspect.
But part of her had wanted to wake up next to him. Maybe just to see what it was like.
"Just foolish thoughts," Aylin assured herself as she dressed in clean breeches and tunic.
Since she didn't feel like braiding her long dark tresses, Aylin left for the Meeting Hall as soon as she finished dressing with the loose curls falling down her back.
Aylin took her time in the hallways, looking out the windows when she came to them while rubbing her bruised throat softly.
When she finally entered the Hall, most of the knights were present–at least physically, as Galahad and Gawain still looked drunk from the night before–and currently shoveling food into their mouths at a quick pace.
Rolling her eyes in amused disgust, Aylin sat and nodded at the servant that approached with a plate of food.
Directly across from her sat Guinevere. The women shared a glare and Aylin was highly pleased when the woad looked away first.
Just as she lifted the spoon to her mouth for the first bite, the doors opened and Tristan walked to his seat.
When their gazes rested upon each other, Aylin gave a slight nod–one that she would give anyone–and resumed her eating.
Tristan watched Aylin after her blue eyes had moved away from him. He grabbed the apple from his own plate and cut into it, thinking on the indifferent look she had given him.
Breakfast continued on as normal, until the servants began to clear away some of the dishes. There was so loud a banging on the Hall doors that one maid almost dropped a goblet in surprise.
Bors quickly stood and opened the heavy door and thankfully helped Jols carry the large wooden box he was attempting balance in one arm.
The two men hauled the box over to Arthur and placed it with a loud thud on the table.
"Arthur, the men at the gate were given this and a letter by a messenger of Merlin," Jols stated quickly as he tried to catch his breath, "They said to read the missive first, then deal with the box."
Nodding, Arthur took the paper from the top of the box and read it aloud for his men to hear.
Artorius Castus,
I received the message you sent me by my daughter. At first I was curious as to your request, but soon concluded that you have your reasons–if I am correct that deal with a newly come knight, by the name of Marsile, to your fort.
I am pleased that you and your knights are willing to work with my people in this matter, instead of against. We are moving our warriors to the forest's edge and will be ready by nightfall.
I am also pleased to inform you that your request was fulfilled just yesterday. Considering the circumstances of which I've become aware, I believe that Marsile would appreciate the contents of the accompanying package.
Merlin
"What in the bloody hell does that mean? 'Ready by nightfall'?" Bors questioned in his loud, gravelly tone.
"It means, Bors, that it is inevitable that the Saxons will come to the fort. I simply inquired if Merlin planned to do anything about it," Arthur answered vaguely.
"I for one, want to see what is in the box. Go open it, Aylin," Galahad urged, seemingly pulled from his hangover by this recent development.
Aylin stood and moved to the box. She paused only a moment before she slid open the latch and lifted the lid slightly.
As she peered in at the contents, Aylin felt a grin form on her lips. It wasn't the joking sort of grin, more so of a malicious, proud sort.
She softly dropped the lid back into place. With her hand still rested upon it, she turned to Arthur and gave him a grateful nod, then left the Hall.
Now curious beyond all reasonable doubt, Galahad rushed to the box and yanked the lid off.
His brown eyes widened and his jaw dropped. The others crowded around him and also looked inside.
There, laying on a small pallet of leather, were the heads of none other than Bishop Germanus and his annoying secretary, Horton.
oOoOoOoOo
As soon as she was outside of the Hall, the blood thirsty grin fell off of Aylin's face. She quickly retraced her earlier steps back to her room–locking the door behind her–and promptly vomited into the basin in the corner of the room.
Aylin sat there on the floor, her back resting on the wall, and wiped the blood from her mouth with her sleeve. She was so used to her own blood that it didn't even faze her.
It wasn't the sight of severed heads that made her sick, but the relief that hit her when she saw the two lifeless pair of eyes.
And it wasn't so much relief for herself, that was for damn sure. But with those particular deaths, Aylin knew that her enemies in Rome would go on completely oblivious to a certain part of her: Dominic.
She had already made her decision about what to do with herself. Now, Aylin wouldn't need to worry about what might happen to him when she wasn't near him.
When her head stopped spinning, Aylin stood from the floor on shaky feet and sat down at the table.
Gathering the materials that were within reach–parchment, ink, quill, and a candle–Aylin began writing.
oOoOoOoOo
Tristan waited until the others had finished questioning Arthur, then went on his own way as the rest went to the courtyard and stables.
He walked the corridors with a purpose, and the maids jumped out of his way to avoid being trampled.
When Tristan came to the door, he didn't bother to knock, but immediately started to open it... Only to find it firmly locked to intruders.
"Open this door, Aylin," he growled, banging on the frame for emphasis.
When he got no answer and the door remained closed, the scout kicked at it before moving back a few feet. Tristan then rammed the door with his body and the force of the impact caused the latch to give way.
"Bloody latch is rotten, don't know why she bothered," he muttered under his breath.
He looked up and saw that Aylin stood by the table, hands on her hips, glaring at him in a way that, had he been anyone else, would have him shaking in his boots.
"Damn it, Tristan! What the hell do you think you are doing?" Aylin shouted.
The scout didn't answer, but he did turn and close the now somewhat splintered door. When he faced her again, she hadn't moved and her eyes demanded an answer.
"What do you want, Tristan?"Aylin asked on a sigh.
He stepped up to her until they were merely centimeters apart and watched her eyes flicker they way they had the night before.
"I wanted to make sure that the look you gave me earlier was just for show," he said lowly, twining his fingers in her loose hair.
Aylin closed her eyes, hoping to shut it all out. Tristan noticed, and lightly tugged on a curl.
"Don't do that," he said when she opened her eyes, and pulled her lips to his.
They stood there for several minutes, getting impossibly lost in each other before Aylin pulled back.
"I can't do this," she said firmly, turning away. Aylin sat back at the table and dripped wax from the candle onto the parchment to seal it. Tristan saw that there was one other letter that was already sealed.
"You aren't going to shut me out, Aylin, like I assume you did to all the others. I won't let you, and I sure as hell don't intend to keep away from you," he said and then left.
oOoOoOoOo
Once she was relatively composed after her last run in with Tristan, Aylin left the sanctuary of her room to seek out the Roman captain, Bennett.
Luckily, it didn't take her long to find him, as he was in the courtyard organizing the supplies that would be needed for departure.
"Captain," Aylin said loudly, as to be heard over the din of the soldiers and peasants.
Bennett turned and smiled when he saw Aylin.
Nodding toward the alley behind the jail, she gestured for him to follow.
"I have a favor to ask of you," she said bluntly, when they were in the quiet.
"Whatever it is, I will surely do," he replied easily.
Aylin smiled at his ability to help others, it was one she certainly hadn't acquired in her lifetime.
"I would like you to deliver this to an old friend when you return to Rome," she said, holding out a sealed letter.
Bennett took it and glanced down at the writing.
Cornelius, son of Gattus
General of the Eastern Legions
Confused, Bennett shook his head and asked, "Are you not coming back with us? Arthur informed me that the knights were accompanying us to a certain point before continuing on to Sarmatia."
"No," Aylin whispered, "You and I both know that there is no Sarmatia left to return to. And I definitely cannot go back to Rome. I would have you spread word that I was killed along with the Bishop in the Woad attack."
"But–"
"You will. Promise me that you will, otherwise I'll never have any peace... and neither will my son," Aylin said in a tone that brooked no argument.
When Bennett nodded his acquiescence, she added, "And make sure that Cornelius gets that letter. It explains everything."
Aylin clapped Bennett on the shoulder with a whispered "Thank You" and left the alley.
She had one more letter to give.
oOoOoOoOo
By the time Aylin pushed through the crowds in the fort and reached the tavern, Vanora and the bar wenches were just cleaning up after the noontime rush.
Looking about, Aylin spotted Vanora wiping down a table in the far corner and walked over to her.
"Hey Vanora," she said lightly, as she knew the woman could pick up on dark moods.
"Oh, 'ello Aylin," the red head replied.
"I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute."
Vanora stopped her cleaning and looked up at the woman in front of her. She could tell that Aylin had much on her mind and was trying her best to keep it hidden. So, she decided to play none-the-wiser.
"Sure, it'd be nice to put me feet up for once–what with the kiddies being looked after by someone other than me for a change," she replied, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Aylin to sit as well.
"Well, I have a huge favor to ask of you," Aylin said slowly.
oOoOoOoOo
Aylin decided, after the draining hour with Vanora, that a visit to Artay was in order since she hadn't seen him in a few days.
At this time of day, the stables were empty–as most were eating or off finishing the jobs that needed to be done by sunset–which suited Aylin fine.
She approached Artay's stall in the back, but paused as a soft voice reached her ears.
"Would you like some oats, Artay," a shy voice whispered.
Aylin peered over the stall gate and watched the back of Dominic's dark, unruly head as he hesitantly held out a handful of oats.
She continued to watch as her horse greedily nibbled the oats from the boy's hand, as he watched in wonder.
"He likes apples, as well," Aylin said, breaking through the silence.
Dominic started and spun around; Artay giving a ruffled neigh at the loss of his food source.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother him, I just wanted to–" he began, only to be cut off at Aylin's raised hand.
"I do not mind. I'm sure Artay here has been wanting for some good snacks since I've been unable to visit."
Dominic's face reddened and his eyes dropped to the straw floor.
"You know, I could give you a riding lesson? You are alright seating a horse, but not great–which is unsurprising, considering your lack of instruction. But you are Sarmatian, and need to ride as such," Aylin stated haltingly.
The boy's eyes lit up at the offer and he nodded eagerly.
Aylin opened the gate and gripped the lead rope on Artay's bridle, bringing the stallion to the center of the stable and tying him to the rail.
Turning to Dominic, she ordered, "Alright, now go get his tack and I'll show you how to put it on."
The boy scampered off in a hurry to the tack room, but his return was a bit slower under the weight of the heavy saddle and blanket.
Aylin relieved him of the saddle and placed it on a post.
"Now, grab that stool there and bring it over."
He did.
"Step up and I'll hand you the blanket... No, no, further up on his back. Like this. That way, it won't slide back when you're riding."
Next, she heaved the saddle up, and showed him where to position it on the horse's back.
"Now, check the girth to make sure it's secure... Good."
Aylin gave him a boost onto the horse, and paused for a moment while her wound finished complaining.
"All right, now remember what I said about giving him his head? Good. Grab hold of the reigns. You know how to direct him, don't you? Okay. I'll hold onto the lead rope and get you going in a walk and will make our way up from there."
And so the lesson continued for a few hours. Dominic progressed from a walk to a trot and eventually to a light canter. Galloping, she had told him, would come in later.
Aylin showed him how to properly remove the tack and replace it on the hooks in the tack room, and then the horse's care after exercise: washing, brushing and checking the hooves.
Aylin knelt down to the boy's level as Dominic cleaned his last shoe, making sure he had done it correctly.
"Good, good. You're all done," she said, looking at his face.
Dominic eyes flickered over her face for a moment, before he thanked her.
Aylin glanced outside, taking note of the darkening sky.
"You'd better go on. I'm sure Vanora will have supper ready for you, Lucan and the others."
He nodded and ran out of the stables, thanking her again over his shoulder as he went.
Aylin laughed slightly, and scratched Artay behind the ears.
oOoOoOoOo
She grabbed some bread and cheese from the kitchens and ate it on her way to the tavern.
After being cooped up for the past couple days–in a cell and her room, respectively–it would be nice to have a couple of drinks with the knights.
And it was. Gawain and Galahad kept her amused with their antics. She would merely share a smirk with Dagonet when Bors began a belching contest.
The only lull in laughter on Aylin's part came when she spotted Arthur and Guinevere headed for the fort. She looked at Lancelot, who had obviously seen the pair as well. When his eyes met hers, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders–the nonverbal "I told you so".
All in all, the men seemed happy at the prospect of leaving for home the next morning. Aylin didn't have the heart to tell them the state of their homeland.
Tristan, on the other hand, acted as he always did. Drinking quietly at the table, with the occasional sentence when he felt like speaking.
The two stared at each other for a while; no one seemed to notice.
Aylin was just about to leave for her room, knowing he would follow, when a soldier came running in shouting in frightened Latin.
Deciphering the man's jumbled words, Aylin raced to the wall and up the steps to look out to the North.
"Bloody hell," she whispered, overlooking the thousands of campfires, signaling the arrival of the Saxon army.
oOoOoOoOo
Aylin and the knights stood atop the wall, waiting on Jols to return with Arthur.
"At least they didn't get here yesterday," Galahad said.
Aylin merely shook her head, looked away from the camp and watched Arthur run up the steps, Guinevere trailing behind looking thoroughly pissed at the interruption.
"What is–" He began, but stopped himself when he saw the fires.
He looked at each knight, before voicing the choice he'd made days ago.
"Knights, I leave you now." And then Arthur left the parapet, Lancelot following yet again in hopes to convince him otherwise.
Guinevere made to go after them, but Aylin blocked her way.
"Let me by,"Guinevere yelled.
"No. It is between them. They were friends long before you or me got here and they'll be friends long after we leave. I won't let you interfere with that," Aylin replied calmly.
"I'm not interfering with anything!" Guinevere growled and attempted to push Aylin out of the way.
But Aylin wasn't going to take any shit from the woad and shoved her back against the wall; the knights watched on in silent wonder.
"I've told you this once and I'll tell you again. Woman to woman, I know what you're doing. I'm pretty sure your father told you to get close to one of them in hopes of an alliance. Your problem is that you're too selfish and greedy to pick one," she paused to slam her back when Guinevere tried to move, "I will not see a whore such as you ruin the comraderie of these men with your scheming. We all see, now stop it."
Aylin stepped back and allowed Guinevere to rush past her. She followed the woad's steps with her eyes and was glad to see that Guinevere was going the opposite direction of Arthur and Lancelot.
Eventually, after watching the Saxons for a while, the knights returned to their rooms to rest up for the departure.
Tristan stopped Aylin and pressed her up against the wall once all the other doors were closed. He plunged his tongue past her lips and ravaged her mouth until they were both breathless.
"I think... I think we should continue this in your room, since you seem to have broken the door to mine," Aylin whispered against his ear, and laughed softly as he grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall to his room.
Well, I hope you liked it. I'm sure you can tell that I'm not a big fan of Guinevere. Though I love Keira Knightley, I hated the character of Guinevere–I thought she was too manipulative.
I need your opinion guys: What should I do with Guinevere? Kill her off in the final battle? Allow her to continue living?
Please, please let me know what you would like. Right now, I just don't know what to do with her.
REVIEW!