Alennia, unbeknown to Tristan, waited at the edge of the forest, watching him until he left. She watched as he stood, immobile, after she had left him. She watched as one of his rough hands slowly came up to touch the place she had touched his cheek. She watched as he sighed and dropped his hand abruptly, before turning away, and making his way back into the darkness.
And as Alennia watched, her heart bled, and she slowly began to realise something. Something that would change her life forever. Something that would ultimately lead to all the pleasure and all the pain she could ever have imagined. And as the realisation slowly began to grow on her, she felt oppressed by the weight of the understanding that she had come to, and she backed slowly away until she hit a tree, and then slid down to the base and buried her face in her hands: not crying, for she was too suffocated by the awareness that engulfed her to find tears.
Eventually, when the moon was low in the sky, she pulled herself to her feet. Her eyes were red, though no tears had been shed, and she placidly smoothed her clothes out and brushed her hair back with one hand.
Alennia took a deep breath, and stepped out of the trees and back to the camp. She made a cursory glance around the camp, and satisfied that everyone was sleeping, resumed her place beside the fire.
No one must know what had passed between her and the scout that night. She had too many enemies in high places, and her status was yet too young to risk being branded a traitor. For that was the name for those who consorted with the enemy. Traitor. It was a cold, brutal word that could crush a person. It had no honour, no respectability, no feeling.
Traitor.
The word echoed around Alennia's mind.
"No!" she screamed silently. "This was different! He was different!"
But the unrelenting voice in her mind repeated the word, heedless of her desperate pleas.
Traitor.
"I'm not a traitor!" Alennia thought desperately. "He saved my life. That is all. That is where it ends."
Traitor.
Alennia rose and slammed one fist into a tree trunk.
"No!" she shrieked silently.
And the voice was silent. But although the word no longer echoed around her brain like a heartbeat, it was forever tattooed upon her soul.
She let out a rattling breath, and sank back down to where she had been sitting, exhausted, both mentally and physically.
She did not see the wise pair of eyes watching her. The eyes that had woken at the sensation of someone watching the encampment from the woods. The eyes that had watched Alennia throughout the night. The eyes that were beginning to comprehend.
A/N – Sorry it's such a short chapter! I'll give you a nice long one next time, alright? Many thanks to MedievalWarriorPrincess – I think it is safe to say I owe you everything about this story (and Where Are All The Ragged Heroes?) at the moment. So thank you – and soon my life will be back on track and I won't be writing such short chapters!