Chapter Twenty-Four: Breaking Hearts

Tristran was lounging back on his chair, cradling a wine cup. He wasn't really listening to the heated debate going on between Lancelot and Arthur, and instead he let his mind drift. If they were talking about anything important, he reasoned, someone would tell him about it sooner or later.

There was a tap on the door, disturbing Tristran from his reverie, and he glanced up as Vanora entered. She curtseyed quickly and spoke to Arthur.

"Milady Alennia to see you, my Lord," she said, a wicked smile playing around the corners of her mouth as she withdrew to clear the doorway for Alennia's entrance.

And what an entrance! Alennia stepped forwards into the doorway, and paused there for a moment, giving the knights ample time to take in the sight of hazel curls cascading down onto her shoulder and fanning out and contrasting perfectly with the pale blue dress she was wearing. It was a modest dress of Roman design, and though it may discreetly cover most flesh, there was nothing modest in the way it was cut to accentuate every curve, every swish over her hips, every ripple of her body as she moved.

Tristran felt his breath catch in his throat as Alennia moved forwards, for she could be said to walk, instead she glided effortlessly across the ground, to meet Arthur who rose to greet her. Alennia curtseyed low as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Tristran idly wondered where she had learnt such courtly manners, but one look at the impish expression on Vanora's face as she watched Alennia wreck havoc with the knights, told him everything he wanted to know.

"It is an honour to meet you, my Lady Alennia," Arthur was saying.

"The honour is all mine my Lord," Alennia responded, with such ease that Tristran would have sworn she had been born in court. "I must thank you for saving my life."

"It was Tristran, Bors and Dagonet who rescued you my Lady," Arthur replied awkwardly. "It is they who deserve your thanks."

Alennia turned the full charm of her winsome smile on the three men. She knew Tristran and Dagonet of course, and so she assumed that the other knight Arthur motioned to must be Bors, Vanora's man.

"I apologise for intruding upon your discussion," Alennia continued, turning back to Arthur.

"It was no intrusion my Lady," Arthur assured her. "In fact, we were just about to go and eat." While he was saying this he shot black looks at Galahad, the most likely knight to refute this. "Would you care to join us?"

"Why, thank you my Lord," Alennia simpered, enjoying the role of damsel in distress greatly.

Arthur bowed to Alennia and proceeded to lead the way out of the hall. The other knights rose to follow, and Alennia waited for Tristran. He approached her, offering her his arm gravely.

"My Lady," he said in a solemn voice.

Alennia took the proffered arm with a laugh. "Why Sir Knight!" she simpered, fluttering her eyelashes at him, and sending Gawain into a fit of laughter behind them.

"Was I so very bad?" she asked Tristran imploringly, having flung a cheeky grin in Gawain's direction.

"You were a minx," he told her in an amused and tolerant tone as they walked togther.

Alennia grinned mischievously up at him, and then danced back a few steps, trailing her hand through his, so that Tristran could see her properly. "How do I look?" she asked in her best 'little girl' voice.

Tristran let his appreciative eyes rove across her body, very deliberately and very slowly, until he could see Alennia's cheeks burn.

"Why Sir Knight!" she exclaimed, still blushing fiercely.

Tristran chuckled at her embarrassment. "You look just fine," he told her, holding out his arm meaningfully, and Alennia tucked her arm into his again

"So," Alennia said, quickly moving the subject away from her body. "That is Bors with Vanora?"

Tristran considered continuing to tease her, but relented and answered her question. "Yes. And behind us are Gawain and Galahad."

"And who is your long-nosed friend next to Dagonet?" Alennia enquired sweetly.

"That would be Lancelot," Tristran told her, as Lancelot swung around, spluttering indignantly.

"Have I really got a long nose?" he demanded of Alennia, who pretended to consider it for a moment.

"I've seen worse," she told him in a sincere voice, before turning to Tristran. "Your horse's nose is much longer, is it not?" sending Tristran, Galahad and Gawain into hysterics and a scowling Lancelot stomping off in front of them, past the bemused Dagonet.

"Where did you find this woman?" Dagonet asked Tristran in amazement.

Tristran glanced down at Alennia, a fond expression on his face. "You wouldn't believe it if I did tell you," he said, with total sincerity.

As the days went by, Alennia was rarely seen out of Tristran's company. The two walked around the garrison together, as Alennia slowly recovered her strength. They sat beside each other at meals, teasing and mocking each other, and Tristran would take Alennia out riding on his mare, along the Roman highways, returning late, laughing and talking.

Dagonet watched on with a growing sadness in his heart. He could see the joy on both of their faces when they were together, but he could not help but wonder how long it would last. Alennia, despite her contented appearance, was quite obviously suffering inside, and from what he could gather; it was from the loss of her clan and her guilt over their deaths. She was fragile, and Dagonet knew that Tristran could quite easily break her heart, and cause her even worse grief than she was already experiencing.

And Tristran, well, Dagonet knew that if anything happened to take Alennia from him, they would lose Tristran. He needed her, as much as she needed him, and as yet their relationship was too fragile for such dependence.

At night, Alennia would sit in her room, hugging her knees, and telling herself over and over again that they could never be more than friends, and yet every night she dreamt of him, and every morning she fell in love with him all over again when she saw his face.

Late one night, when Alennia sat in the moonlight, Tristran's face in her mind, a soft knock came at the door, and Vanora entered.

"We need to talk," she said, giving Alennia no time to greet her.

"About what?" Alennia asked warily.

"About Tristran," Vanora told her, sitting beside her on the bed. "What's up between you two?"

"Nothing!" Alennia immediately exclaimed. "Well, what I mean is, we're just friends."

Vanora studied Alennia for some time. "Tell me," she said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Alennia held her gaze for a moment, before dropping her eyes. "I love him," she said simply.

"But?" Vanora asked.

"But I can't. I shouldn't! He's a knight, I'm a Woad. Things like that don't happen."

"And yet you still love him," it was not a question, but a statement.

Alennia lowered her head. "I am kept up all night thinking about him, and when I sleep I find him in my dreams."

Vanora reached forwards and raised Alennia's face to meet her eyes. "It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return, but what is most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to tell them."

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?" Alennia asked despairingly. "I can't bear to lose him, even as a friend."

"Believe me, he feels the same way for you as you do for him."

"How do you know?" Alennia asked quietly, a small hope springing in her heart.

"I know Tristran, and I know what love does to people. He loves you, Alennia. He loves you," and saying that she rose and left, leaving Alennia in even more pain and uncertainty that she was in before.

A/N - OK, so the last bit was a bit weird, but I wanted Alennia to talk to Vanora, and I think Vanora's a no-nonsense kind of person when it comes to telling people what she thinks. Anyway, things are going to get interesting very soon between Alennia and Tristran, so prepare yourselves for two very melodramatic chapters!