Disclaimer: I own nothing except Isulet, Morgan and Tempest. Thanks to all my reviewers. Pretty short today. I don't own the song that came off the 3rd Lord of the rings soundtrack and is sung by Annie Lennox.
Chapter 7
When everyone had settled down to their evening meal Isulet went over to Morgan to see how she was. She wasn't the only one there. When Isulet saw the black head of hair she smiled and walked in. Tristan turned around and smiled at her. Setting the wooden bowl she was carrying down Isulet looked at Tristan. He took the hint and left, just while Isulet changed the bandages. The burns were looking a lot better, as were the whiplashes. Isulet hummed a tune under her breath, not aware she was being watched by more pairs of eyes than just Tristan's.
Lancelot was wondering about Morgan. Did he ever stand a chance? Really, if the girl was anything like Isulet then he didn't stand a chance. But what if she wasn't like Isulet? Anything was possible after all. Maybe Isulet would have fallen for him, if Gawain hadn't got there first. He realised that even if Morgan was like Isulet he still stood a chance. Isulet was loyal to Gawain and would defend him with her life. So maybe he ought to give up on Isulet and go after Morgan instead. If not there was always the girl that Arthur had found. Guinevere, wasn't that her name? She had black hair exactly like the other two girls, and she had blue eyes, though her were warmer than Isulet's.
Arthur was watching his sister. She seemed incredibly happy, was it that she had found Morgan again? He felt racked with guilt that he had not been there for his sister time and again. He wanted to be there for her. It had always seemed that another one of the knights had helped her, tough he was pleased at first, and it had helped to strengthen relations. But now, his sister felt like a totally different person. She seemed to have grown away from him, changed irrevocably. Oh for the days when Isulet would come creeping to Arthur to tell him her fears. She had been living with ghosts that was obvious. But now there was a difference in her, a difference Arthur didn't like. She seemed to be different. He decided to talk to her at the first chance he got. And then there was Guinevere. What did he feel for her? He felt something, that much was certain, but what? Could it be he, Artorius Castor, had fallen in love? It was more than possible. He recalled what Isulet had said to him when she had told him her dreams of a knight in shining armour sweeping her off her feet when they were younger; anything is possible, if you believe in it enough. Maybe he should start believing in that, maybe he would live a happier life then.
Gawain was watching Isulet with a dreamy expression on his face. He had eaten his fill, and was now lazing back, letting the firelight warm him. Isulet was a lovely woman, though she had suffered pain that much was clear from her face. She seemed to be older than twenty nine at times, and yet at others, especially when she laughed or smiled, he was reminded of the happy go lucky child that he had first met. Sometimes he just wished that he could wish them back to the beginning of all this, and stop everything from happening. He didn't want to go home he realised suddenly, he wanted to be with Isulet, wherever it may be. If she wanted to stay here he would gladly stay in Britain, a land he wasn't overly fond of. But whatever happened he just wanted to be with Isulet. He also wanted to be a free man, and live his life the way he wanted to live it.
Isulet took the bowl and held it up to Morgan's lips. Upon tasting the tea Isulet had made, Morgan coughed, it tasted foul. But she was too weak to protest, so she gladly let Isulet pour it down her throat. She realized it warmed her, and made her pain seem far away. Even though her pain had lessened a long time ago, thanks to Isulet's care. The burns were no longer itching and warm, irritating her to the point of distraction. But now all there was was a cool sensation, and a minty fresh smell. Even her back wasn't stinging; it hadn't even stung when the man, Tristan had picked her up this evening. She lay back and watched Isulet through heavy lidded eyes, loving the look of her friend. She had grown, that was to be expected. Her hair had grown long, down to her waist now, and had blood red ribbons in it which flashed when they caught the firelight. Isulet hadn't put her hair back up, she hadn't had the time. Isulet's eyes on first inspection had become steely and cold, especially when she glared at people. But when she looked at Morgan and one of the knights her eyes seemed to warm up. Not that they didn't for the rest of the knights, they just lit up a special way for her and this knight.
"Isulet." Morgan murmured.
"Awake are we? How are you feeling?" Isulet bustled around her.
"Fine, listen; can you introduce me to the other knights?" Morgan asked a pleading look in her eyes.
"You don't need to give me that look. I was going to ask if you wanted to meet them." Isulet reached for a dress, "But you have to get dressed first.
"Give me a hand then." Isulet obliged, and soon the two walked out, Morgan leaning on Isulet for support.
"I do believe you may need a hand." Lancelot said, walking up to help, but Isulet evaded him.
"Thank you Lancelot, I'm more than capable of handling, I'm not weak you know." Isulet helped Morgan the rest of the way, letting her friend sink down next to Tristan, before going and sitting next to Gawain.
"Isulet you haven't eaten anything, and you look exhausted." Arthur said, handing over a bowl of stew to Gawain, who passed it to Isulet.
"Very pleased to make your acquaintance Morgan." Galahad kissed Morgan's hand, which made Isulet snigger into her stew, and Arthur raised an eyebrow at Isulet.
"You all seem to know me, but who are you?" Morgan asked, putting on a front of being confused.
"This is Lancelot, Bors, Tristan, Galahad and Gawain. The man tending to the boy is Dagonet." Arthur introduced Morgan.
"Very pleased to meet you." Morgan said. Tristan lazily leaned forward and ladled Morgan some stew, which made her smile.
"Tristan being kind wonders never cease." Bors muttered, getting dirty looks of Morgan and Isulet.
"Now Bors." Arthur warned.
"What, I was just saying." Bors muttered darkly.
"I think I better take Dagonet some stew, and I need to look at the boy." Isulet stood up and lazily stretched out, "Here you are Dagonet." Isulet placed the stew down and took a look at the boy. He was feverish, she had made him some tea earlier, but that hadn't seemed to have worked. The boy cried out in his sleep. Holding him close, Isulet began to sing.
Into the West
Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You have come to journeys end
Sleep now
Dream- of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across a distant shore
Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping
What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass
Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don't say
We have come to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again
And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping
What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come
To carry you home
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the west
Dagonet stirred a little when Isulet got up. He was sleeping. May pleasant dreams come to you my friend, Isulet thought as she walked back to the camp. There was cheerful laughter and voices buzzed. It was like a dream for Isulet. When she was married to her husband the only thing that had kept her sane was her dreams. She still kept the dream of her knight in shining armour, though it was only a dream now, a frail hope clinging to her. Who was she kidding? She hadn't been rescued, she escaped, and she hadn't been swept off her feet. But still the hope remained, however slim the chances were of anything actually happening. When she got to the fire she was greeted warmly by everyone. Morgan looked a little pale, so Isulet took her back to the tent and saw she went to sleep. Then Isulet began her all night vigil.
Author's notes: Wow! I just get the sixth chapter up and I write the seventh and upload on the same day. Mind you, no sister to kick me off the computer, tee hee. You know by now, review if you want.