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Llynya dreamed of fire and black shadows, the thunder of hoof beats and the clash of steel upon steel. Whimpering in her sleep, it took a moment before the hand that shook her shoulder woke her from her nightmare, and several more before she opened her eyes. The fire was blurry in the darkness, the blankets beneath her twisted around her legs. Pushing herself to her knees and looking around in bemusement, she gave a shuddering breath and froze. A pair of boots were stood beside her hand, a pair of boots that were all too familiar.
"Are you alright?"
There was no mistaking that low voice, and turning her head slightly she could see the gold of Gawains hair gleaming in the firelight. The warm hand was still on her shoulder, and Llynya shrugged it off, her heart racing, glad that her hair obscured her face.
"I'm fine. Do not concern yourself sir," she said stiffly. She had to face him sometime - better that it was sooner rather than later.
"Sir?" He sounded almost amused. "There is no need for such formality between us surely?"
"There is every need Sir. It is not right for a woman of my position to address a knight with anything less than propriety." Llynya tried and failed to keep the bitterness from her voice. Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, she snuggled into it's folds with what she hoped was a decent attempt at feigning exhaustion. "I am sorry to have bothered you."
"Bother me? Tom tells me that you barely escaped a Saxon battalion, that you fled with nothing, and you are worried about bothering me?" Gawain snorted with exasperation, "Llynya, we were friends once, there is no reason to be afraid."
Biting her lip, she shot him a brief sideways glance.
"Gods, woman, is it really so hard to look at me?" Llynya felt her head turned forcefully by his hand, and unwillingly raised her eyes to his. He had not changed she thought miserably. Those were the blue eyes that had smiled at her patiently when he had first bedded her, that was the mouth that had given her such pleasure and broken her heart when he bid her farewell. Pushing his hand away, she moved back a little.
"I am not some foolish tavern whore Gawain, I did not seek out your company. Tom and Tristan brought me here because I had nowhere else to go. When we reach Avebury I shall leave and our paths will not cross again. You have no more responsibility towards me than I do to you." Dropping her eyes again, Llynya did her best to summon up the defiance she had felt before. It was not easy: she was half asleep and unnerved by his presence, the memory of her nightmare still lurking at the back of her mind.
"You are under Arthurs' protection." Gawain touched her cheek gently, and she felt her traitorous heart race. "Like it or not , I am bound to protect you."
"You owe me nothing, nor I you." Tucking her knees up to her chest, Llynya twisted her fingers into her skirts. "You took your pleasure and I took mine. That is all."
"We both know that isn't true." Brushing a strand of hair from her face, Gawain pulled her closer, his big body pushing Llynya back against the fallen tree that bordered the fireplace. "I have thought of you often since we parted. If things were different, if I was not pledged to Rome…" He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry I was not there to protect you."
"It's hardly your fault," she replied awkwardly. "It was Palomides' greed that caused our village to be attacked. From what Tom said, even Arthur could not have prevented it."
"He did what he could." Gawains' voice was soft, and Llynya chanced a glance at him. He watched the fire with troubled eyes, his expression making him seem far older than his years, and her hand reached for his as though it had a mind of it's own. He smiled at her tentative touch and squeezed her fingers briefly, his thumb caressing her palm. "You were supposed to have been safe there, you were supposed to find a decent man and bring up pretty children in your little farmhouse. We wouldn't have left if we had had any idea…" His voice trailed off, and for the first time Llynya noticed the blood on his tunic and the rough bandage wrapped around his bicep.
"You're hurt." Scrambling to her knees, she pushed back his tunic, any attempt at aloof indifference forgotten. "What happened? Has Dagonet seen to your wound? Have you…"
"Enough." Giving a wry smile at her concern, Gawain grabbed her arms and settled her back down beside him. "It's nothing. Barely more than a scratch, although I must say that it's nice to see that you care."
"I wouldn't go that far." Giving a him a half hearted grin, Llynya tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I've only got one dress - I'd rather not get it covered in blood that's all."
"Ah, I see." He shook his head, "women."
Wrinkling her nose in mock disgust, she tucked her arms around her knees and smiled. "It wouldn't kill you to make more of an effort with your own appearance sir; if you hair gets any longer Tristans' hawk might try using it as a nest."
"Not if it values it's life it won't." With a sigh Gawain leant back against the tree trunk and studied Llynya. "You look tired."
She let out a breath in weary amusement. "I am tired, but since you woke me up, that is hardly surprising."
"You would rather I had left you to your nightmares?"
"You have left me before."
They were both quiet for a moment. The fire cast shadows across the small campsite, the quiet voices of the other knights sharing a wineskin between them the only noise that broke the silence. Watching the dim silhouettes huddled around the other fire, Llynya fought back a yawn.
"Go. Thank you for waking me, but there is no need for you stay here."
"It's hardly a trial. You needn't worry about the Saxons though, they're headed north - Tristans' keeping an eye on them, but it looks like they got what they came for."
"You mean they killed what they came for." She could feel his eyes upon her, and the sudden hot rush of longing was as unwelcome as it was irresistible. "Just because I've, I mean we've…. It doesn't mean that I'm going to again," she blurted out. "I didn't have any choice about coming here."
"I know." Rubbing her shoulder gently, Gawain got to his feet. "I ask nothing of you Llynya, and neither will anyone else. Get some sleep; there is a long ride ahead."
She nodded and bit her lip, pretending to study the forest so that he did not see the tears in her eyes. The trees were dark and menacing, and there was a certain comfort in the knowledge that as unhappy as she might be now, her fate would have been far worse if she had not returned to Tom and Tristan. A brief flash of movement caught her eye, and for a moment she thought it was Lark hunting in the forest, for surely no human could move with such stealth. The unmistakable twang of a bowstring swiftly disabused her of such notions. The arrow landed within inches of her leg, and before she had time to register the near miss Gawain had pulled her to her feet and dragged her towards the others.
"Arthur!" Gawains' warning was almost drowned out by the sound of swords released from their scabbards, and that was when all hell broke loose.
A/N A little chapter I know, but I wanted Gawain and Llynya to have a little moment to themselves! Thankyou very much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.