Alennia could not sleep. She had lain awake in her room for hours, watching the shadows lengthening on the walls, and thinking of him. She wanted to believe that he had never loved her, but she was plagued by doubts. She cursed Dagonet a hundred times for giving her such fears, but nothing could take the words back.
With a sigh she swung her legs over the side of her bed and sat up. Moonlight shone down through the small window, illuminating a patch of floor, and Alennia sat, staring at the light, but seeing nothing.
Why? The question played over and over again in her head, haunting her and giving her no rest. Why had he left her? He couldn't really love her…could he?
Slowly she became aware of a noise. A quiet, almost indiscernible noise, and Alennia could not, for a moment, work out what it was. Then she realised. It was the sound of rain.
She sat, perfectly still, for a long time, revelling in the sound of the rain growing heavier and heavier outside. When was the last time she had felt rain on her skin? She felt like a caged animal, trapped in the Roman buildings, unable to feel the power of the weather tearing at her.
Alennia rose silently, pulling a cloak over her. She had an insatiable desire to stand in the growing storm, to feel the force with which it blew, to remember how insignificant she was against the strength of nature. On soundless feet she crossed to the door and slipped out of her room, disappearing down the empty corridors, as silent as a shadow.
When she reached the wall, she stood, her head tilted upwards, rain running down it, the fierce winds battering her body and whipping her hair and cloak backwards. And there, with nothing but the power of the storm to embrace her, she finally let the tears come.
Alennia was not the only one who could not sleep that night. Tristran paced up and down his small room, long after the fire had burnt out. Alennia's pale face haunted him, and he could feel his heart being slowly and agonisingly torn in two. What had he done?
Tristran suddenly stopped his pacing. His sharp, tracking senses had heard a soft feet pass his door. It was late into the night, and usually no one was up at that hour. Tristran waited a few seconds for the footsteps to pass, and then went to the door and opened it silently to see the retreating form of Alennia, wrapped in an all-too familiar cloak.
Suddenly Tristran was overpowered by the memory of the day he had given her that cloak. Her happy, shining face, the feeling of her body against his as they galloped across the mountainside, the warmth of the sun on his face. He bowed his head as the memory receded, leaving him alone in a cold, dark room.
He looked quickly down the corridor to where Alennia had just disappeared around a corner, and slipped through the door, closing it quietly behind him, before following her down the deserted corridors.
Tristran slipped from shadow to shadow, moving silently yet quickly. Then he was struck by a sudden thought. What if she was going to Dagonet's room? He stopped in his tracks, the enormity of the thought dawning on him. Would she really do that? Would Dagonet really betray him so?
For a moment he was tempted to turn back, so that he would not have to endure the pain of seeing her go to Dagonet's door, but his fearful mind was still too loyal to Alennia to think she would do that to him, and so he moved on again.
Tristran didn't realise he was trembling until he had watched Alennia walk past Dagonet's door without even sparing it a glance. He stopped for a moment, leaning on the wall as he berated himself for doubting her so much, for doubting both of them no much, and then he drew himself up and followed her outside.
Trsitran stood at the bottom of the wall, watching Alennia at the top. She was unaware of his presence. In fact she seemed to be oblivious to everything save for the violence of the storm. It was not long before Tristran was soaked, but still he stood there, torn between returning to the warmth of his room, and going and making things right with her.
Alennia was startled from her reverie when she heard a step behind her, and spun around to find Tristran standing a few feet from her. She could not read the expression in his eyes, for they were hidden by the wild-looking braids that hung down in front of his face.
"Alennia," Tristran greeted her.
"What do you want?" Alennia asked quickly, her hands beginning to tremble. Why was he here? To mock her further? To try and get her back into his bed?
"To talk," Tristran said bluntly.
"There's nothing to talk about," Alennia said, her eyes flashing dangerously as she turned to look back out across the storm-battered plains.
Tristran moved so that he was standing beside her, his hands resting on the smooth brick as he stared out in the same direction of Alennia. They were only inches apart, and yet were separated by a vast gulf of pain and misunderstanding.
Tristran's mind was in riot, as he desperately struggled to find the words that would explain the surging emotions in his heart. He waws becoming an increasingly silent man since he had met Alennia, for words seemed irrelevant with her, and yet now he needed those words to reach out across the gulf between them. After a long time, he eventually spoke, "I'm sorry," he said simply, unable to find words to match the feelings racing around his head.
Alennia turned her head to speak to him. "You're sorry?" she said in a choked voice. "And that is meant to make everything alright?"
Tristran sighed and turned to face her. "I never meant to hurt you. I would never do that to you."
"Well you did," Alennia shot back. They stood, immobile, staring at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, and then Alennia's shoulders slumped, and she seemed to diminish. She shook her head slowly, and the fight seemed to go out of her voice. "Leave me," she said wearily.
Tristran considered her for a moment, and then turned to go, his heart fighting his head every step of the way, as he wanted to make things right between them, and at the same time knew that he would make her more vulnerable than she should ever be, if he told her that he loved her. At the top of the steps his heart won, and he paused, turning back to her.
"Alennia!" he called.
She turned to regard him with pained eyes, and Tristran could see the tears running down her face, mixed in with the rain.
"I love you," Tristran said softly.
There was pause, when all that could be heard was the lonely howling of the wind. "Then why?" Alennia eventually asked in an anguished voice. "Why would you do that to me if you loved me?"
Tristran bowed his head for a moment, and when he raised his eyes to her face again, Alennia could, for the first time, see emotion in his eyes: a deep fear, masked in pain and sorrow. "Because I could not let you throw your life away for my sake," he said in a hoarse voice.
"I would have followed you to the ends of the earth," Alennia told him fiercely.
"I know. I could not let you do that to yourself. You deserve so much better than anything I can offer," Tristran bowed his head once more, so that Alennia could not see the pain that telling her the truth was causing him.
There was silence, and for a moment, Tristran thought that Alennia was not going to reply. Then a small, soft hand brushed down his cheek and under his chin, and gently raised his head so that he was looking into her eyes.
"It is my decision alone," she told him softly.
"Don't do this," Tristran whispered softly, but without conviction. He was a slave to her touch, and knew, in that moment, that there was nothing but her. He raised one large, rough hand to take her small one, and cradled it to his cheek. The other hand snaked around the back of her waist, pulling her towards, and there lips met, not with the fiery passion that they had previously, but softly, gently, as if the moment was so fragile it could be lost in a second.
Alennia twined her arm around the back of his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. Tristran hid his own face in her hair, breathing in the deep scent that was Alennia's and Alennia's alone. How long they stood there, neither knew, nor cared. They were lost, drowning in a sea of pleasure and pain, no longer caring about anything, save the one they were holding.
Finally they pulled apart, and just stood, drowning in the other's eyes. For the first time in a long while, they hid nothing from the other, but instead let every hope and every fear shine brightly. And in that moment, they were both more vulnerable than they had ever been in their lives. Eventually Tristran sighed and looked down.
"You're still going then?" it was not much of a question, for he already knew the answer.
"I'm sorry," Alennia said softly. "I have to go back to my people."
Tristran nodded slowly, pulling Alennia back into his embrace. "Never forget me," he whispered fiercely.
"I could not," Alennia said softly, sighing softly. Tristran wrapped his arms back around her, memorising every curve of her skin, the taste of her kiss, the sound of her voice, and the two stood there, twined together, silhouetted on the wall as the sun began to rise to herald their parting.
A/N - Well? What did you think? I couldn't bear to separate them anymore! I'm not sure about the last bit - I honestly didn't know what on earth they were going to do & talk about once they had got back inside, so that was something of an ad lib, seeing as how I had absolutely no idea what was going to go there, and haven't come to any useful conclusions for at least the last month, when I first worked out their reconciliation. Anyway, if you guys have any bright ideas, please, please tell me, and I will be only too happy to re-write it – in fact, I would be thrilled if someone with more than the scrap of imagination that I have comes up with a good idea.