Disclaimer: As before.
Chapter 3
Opening the door she came face to face with Lancelot, who looked for all the world as if he was just about to knock. Celene just smiled at her friend and took his arm as he offered it to her. Lancelot had grown taller since he had come to Britain five years ago. His black hair had acquired a definite curl. Celene was left wondering what it was, as Galahad's hair was also black and had a definite curl. Many people made the mistake of saying that the two were brothers. That was soon sorted out.
"You look nice." Lancelot said, smiling down at Celene.
"Thank you, kind sir knight." Celene joked.
The two carried on with their friendly banter as they walked down to the tavern. As they arrived they were hailed by everyone. Lancelot immediately sauntered off to the bar to get a glass of wine, and to stand with the older knights. Celene walked over and joined her mother, who was watching a knife throwing contest between Tristan, Galahad and Gawain. When they saw her Galahad came over and smiled sweetly.
"Do you want a go?" He asked Celene.
"I would love a go, but I left my knife behind." Celene apologized.
"She only just got here, leave her be." Gawain smiled.
"I haven't even had a drink yet!" Celene exclaimed good naturedly.
"Well that can soon be sorted out." Galahad came back with two cups of wine.
"You are too kind sir knight." Celene accepted the wine before taking a sip.
"He only got you one, because he wanted one himself." Lancelot sauntered over.
"Celene, the most beautiful woman on the earth." Percival sauntered over.
"Hello uncle." Celene stood and kissed Percival on the cheek.
"That's put you in your place." Bedwyr came up and smiled at Celene.
"Father." Celene smiled kissing her father, "How many cups of wine had Perceval had?" she asked.
"Only five." Perceval counted.
"And five beers." Bedwyr added.
"Oh right, that would explain it." Celene smiled.
The next few hours were spent in friendly banter between everyone. There was a lot of wine drunk, but those who were drunk were good natured for it. Everyone soon forgot about the revelation of the day before. The only sign of it was the paleness of Sebille, and the way she drank very little, and had frequent coughing fits. After a particularly bad one, Celene slipped her mother some wine with some herbs to stop the coughing. Sebille weakly smiled her thanks.
Soon enough, as the sunset faded into the inky black sky of night some people brought out instruments. Everyone was soon dancing, apart from Celene, who stood by her mother, tapping her feet in time to the beat. The firelight flickered off the dancers, and the musicians, skillfully weaving one tune into another. The only other people to be sitting out were Tristan and Sebille. Tristan was watching everything, and yet he was strangely detached from everything.
"Celene come dance with me." Lancelot commanded as he grabbed her waist.
"Lancelot, out of respect for my toes I think I'll decline." Celene smiled.
"He's not actually that bad of a dancer." Vanora came up.
"Fine then." Celene smiled.
The next dance was an extremely energetic one. Celene launched herself into the dance and found all her tensions and reservations running away with the music, and every step she made. She knew the dance well, and with that knowledge came a calm assurance that can only come with knowing a dance so well. One step flowed well into another, and soon someone had reached in and pulled out her hair clips, leaving her hair tumbling about her. It shone like brown gold when it caught the firelight.
To try and confuse her, and make her miss steps the knights kept on changing partners, but Celene carried on, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. She felt everything flow away from her, even to some extent herself. It was as if she was the dance and the dance were her, and as long as she kept dancing things would be fine.
The dance finally came to an end and Celene stood there panting, catching her breath. Her hair now cascaded to her waist, where it finally finished. Everyone was cheering, and Celene dimly realized they were cheering her. What she hadn't realized was that she had danced out all her emotions. What she did notice was now she had a clear head and felt that she could see ahead. She felt the strength that was inside her, and knew that whatever came her way she would be able to cope with.
"You need to dance like that more often." Tristan spoke as Celene took a sip of her wine.
In answer Celene nodded. She had loved dancing ever since she was a girl. What's more it had been said that she had a talent. One person even went as far as to say that Celene's feet made the music, not the musicians. In fact this was true to a certain extent. Sometimes when she danced she danced alone, unaccompanied by any musician. Then it seemed as if she was spinning the music from her feet, telling a tale.
Tristan knew how to read people; it was a habit he had developed over the five years since. He had changed, as had all the knights. Although it was harder to tell if his changes were for better or for worse. He had fallen into himself more and more, becoming his own companion. He suffered his brother in arms company, but the only people he really cared about were his horse and his hawk, which he had found a year ago.
"Celene you were wonderful." Galahad congratulated.
"Thank you." Celene smiled at the compliment.
"Like I said an angel." Perceval's slurred words floated up from underneath the table.
"I think someone ought to get you home." Sebille smiled.
"I'll get myself home." Perceval stood, took a few steps before collapsing down again.
"I'll see him home." Sebille stood.
"You will do no such thing without my help." Bedwyr exclaimed.
"I'll see you two later then." Celene kissed her mother's cheek as the two helped their friend out to his rooms.
Celene watched the three go out, carefully sipping her wine. Her mother was tired, that you could tell. She knew that it was probably the strain of having to carry on like everything was normal, pretending she was fine. Now though, the mask had been removed, and what a terrible sight it was. Sebille would become steadily worse and worse, before she just expired. It was such a sad thing to think about, someone who used to be so vigorous and full of life, just wasting away, incredibly tired. She would also lose her appetite that had already become apparent.
"Dance." Tristan commanded from behind her.
Celene shook her head, and went to walk away. Tristan had other ideas though. He caught her wrist, and as she spun around, a sharp retort on her lips he half-moved her, half-threw her onto the floor. She went to walk off the floor after him, with the intent to hurt him. Just then the music started up, and she was caught round the waist by Gawain. She turned to see the question in her eyes, which she just had to say yes to. It was very hard for her to refuse her friends anything.
This dance was slower than the last one, and yet required a greater level of skill to perform. The pace changed, sometimes frequently, depending on how the music was played, but the tone always stayed the same. It was a restful, mournful dance. The movements were fluid and sinuous, one blending into the next.
As Celene danced she remembered. She knew this dance so well, her mother and father had loved to teach this to her. They had loved to teach her all the dances they knew, although this one was their favourite. She could see them in her mind's eye now, dancing away closely together, oblivious to all around them apart from each other. This dance could be a dance between friends or a dance between lovers. A sigh came to her mind when she thought how she wanted a love like that of her mother and father.
Celene didn't realise she was crying until she finished the dance. Two tears were slowly making their way down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly, unwilling for anyone to see her crying. She knew Tristan knew though, he always did. She shook her head to dispel her melancholy thoughts. She suddenly felt tired, all the work she had done was finally catching up with her.
She smiled and said goodnight to the men, before walking herself back to the infirmary, thinking over everything she needed to stock up on before the first winter frosts. Perhaps she would need to ask Arthur to go and buy some herbs. She was running low on certain herbs, and she was worried in case there was an epidemic like there was like last winter. The graveyard had been very busy then, mostly with children and the old. There was much mourning in winter; it carried people off with its chill fingers. Celene wondered how her mother was to fare, how she could help her to last the winter.
For Celene, life, as usual, went on at its usual pace.
Author's note: Wow, two chapters in one day. I hope you like. Any reviews welcome, and any critisms always welcome. Thanks for reading.