a/n: Thanks for your patience. I keep trying to end this story, but then I've written another 13 pages, and I can't just cut stuff out. I actually wrote about four extra pages somewhere in the middle, but I cut it because I kept debating about something for this chapter. I think it's better as is. Hopefully, you agree! (Although, you can't read what I cut, so I guess I mean that I hope you like the chapter.) :o) Thanks for your awesome support! More to come as soon as I can write it well!
Embrace It
Jaelynn heard a knock at her door. Her eyes shot open, and Tristan lifted his head to glare at the door.
"Jaelynn?"
She knew that voice.
"Hilden," she whispered. Tristan wasted no time sitting up for Jaelynn to move. She went to the door but paused. What will he think?
Hilden knocked again. Jaelynn glanced back to Tristan. He stood up and paced the small room. She noticed his clothes were rumpled and his hair was in more disarray than usual. But to her, it just made her care for him more. Hilden's at the door! With a 'are-you-ready' glance to Tristan, she opened it.
Hilden's eyes immediately moved past her to see Tristan. He raised an eyebrow and looked back to her.
And then, he cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him.
"I need you," he said steadily. His eyes flickered back to Tristan, and the awkwardness was starting to consume Jaelynn. "There's an ill man."
"Who?" she asked.
"Edward, the new merchant," Hilden said. His eyes flickered again to Tristan. "Meet me in the healing rooms."
He turned to leave.
"I'll be there soon," she said. Her words sounded hollow, and she couldn't get rid of the awdwardness. There was a pit in her stomach. Hilden turned to leave.
"Hilden," Tristan called out. Despite the situation, Jaelynn noticed his voice. It was rugged in the morning, especially with his cough, but his words came out with his unique lilt "Don't tell anyone, for now."
Jaelynn raised an eyebrow at the scout. She glanced to Hilden. The healer smiled tightly, and nodded.
Jaelynn shut the door and fell against it with a sigh.
"We weren't ready for that," Tristan said. He smiled slightly. Jaelynn tried to smile back.
"I just hope he doesn't ask me about it," she said. Tristan chuckled. It was a garbled sound from his sickness but Jaelynn loved it. "Or tell Vanora." She rolled her eyes at the thought. If Vanora found out, the whole town would know by sunset.
"He'll keep his word," Tristan said. "Does it bother you?" Jaelynn frowned.
"What?"
"That people might find out," he said. About us, Jaelynn added in her own mind. For a brief moment, she shivered with delight as she realized there was an 'us.'
"No," she said. She had a feeling Tristan was asking more than just that. "It's just . . . I have cared for you for so long, that people know and teased me about it. Now that we're . . . I'm just afraid no one will believe it."
He nodded silently, and turned for the door. Jaelynn knew he was leaving to give her privacy to ready herself for the day.
"When you're done," he said, drawing her attention back and with it a rush of excitement with every word, "meet me at the stables."
Jaelynn raised an eyebrow. Tristan half-grinned, and left.
She wanted to think about that more, but she had to get to Hilden, soon. Hurrying, she got ready.
-0-0-
Tristan had slept well. He hoped Jaelynn was all right, because sleeping as she had, sitting up, was not very comfortable. He knew from experience.
Their brief and rushed conversation this morning left Tristan wondering: what next? He felt more . . . at peace this morning. But now, how was he supposed to act?
He paced back and forth in the stables, wondering how long it would take for Jaelynn to help Hilden with the newest patient. It'd been two hours already, and he was anxious to see her again.
Jaelynn had said she worried about how everyone would react to them being together. Tristan felt the same way, mainly because this was completely new to him. He thought it wouldn't matter, because it was his life and his business. But Jaelynn was close to all the knights and Arthur and Vanora . . . That made the situation different. He just wasn't sure how much.
Footsteps neared, and Tristan's heart sped up. He waited for her to come through the open stable doors.
His heart fell when he saw it was Arthur.
"Tristan," the king greeted. Tristan nodded back. "What are you doing here?"
Not surprisingly, Tristan had no words to explain that. He settled on shrugging it off. Arthur didn't pursue it.
"I have a matter to discuss with you," he said. Tristan hoped it wasn't another scouting mission. If he started to turn down too many, Arthur would question his sanity.
"All right," Tristan said. He crossed his arms.
Arthur started to speak, but cut himself off as Jaelynn entered the stable. Tristan tried not to show any reaction.
"Jaelynn," Arthur greeted.
"My lord," she said. Her eyes flickered to Tristan. She stood still, and Tristan too. Arthur glanced between them. "Am I interrupting?"
"No, no," Arthur quickly acquiesced. "I can speak with Tristan after dinner tonight."
"Dinner?" Tristan didn't remember anything about tonight.
"Yes," Arthur said with a nod. "Just informal. The knights, and a few others. Jaelynn, why don't you come too?"
Jaelynn smiled politely. "Thank you."
Arthur smiled back and started out of the stables. He paused though, and Tristan felt his body tense up.
"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, directing the question to Jaelynn. Her eyes grew wide.
"Um . . ." She turned to Tristan.
As calmly and nonchalantly as possible, he cleared his throat and said: "Just a ride."
There was a very distinct look of curious suspicion that Tristan caught from Arthur—directed only to him. Tristan went to his horse, avoiding Arthur enough that the king left. Tristan sighed softly to himself.
Jaelynn and Tristan rode outside the wall. He wanted to get away, so they could be undisturbed, and so they could talk. Jaelynn slowed her horse down by the lone tree in the field, just out by the gates.
"I come here a lot," she said, the fondness of showing through on her face. "I like to climb up in the tree and read sometimes." She glanced up at the tall and wide branches. After a moment, she looked to him, waiting for him to say something.
Tristan cleared his throat from its scratchiness. He nodded at the tree.
"I shot a man in that tree."
Jaelynn blinked and her smile vanished.
"Were you in the tree or was he?" she asked, her voice completely serious but non-judgmental.
"He was," he said. Now might be a good time to explain yourself before you scare her anymore. "He was with the Saxons, three years ago."
Jaelynn tilted her head up dramatically as she understood. She smiled sweetly at him; Tristan loved the sight of that smile.
"Would you mind telling me the whole story when you say things like that?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer, she nudged her horse to move forward. Tristan chuckled to himself.
He led the way, keeping a fair pace until they were well into the woods. It felt safer there, not from real danger but anyone who might see them. Tristan just didn't want to be seen with Jaelynn.
That sounded wrong, but it wasn't just because of the knights or anyone who shared a common sense of care for her. Tristan knew that as soon as it was known by one person, even a knight, the rest of the town would know—including such people as the smithy's wife, or the gossiper Arthur scolded.
Odd, he thought, that all of a sudden he cared enough about what others thought that it was affecting him so much. He scowled at the idea.
"Where are we going?" she asked, and he heard her horse gallop to catch up with him.
"It's not too far," he answered. He wasn't about to tell her where they were going. If nothing else, he lacked the words to describe it. And so they rode on. They were riding hard, climbing up a hill. Tristan smiled. Almost there.
He came to the top of the hill, and the sight greeted him. Eagerly, he turned to watch Jaelynn's reaction. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. He heard a faint gasp from her lips.
They stopped, side by side, at the edge of a field. It was cold, and winter still claimed the land, but that didn't stop the entire field from sprouting amazing multicolored flowers. They stood proudly and strong above the cold ground, their bright colors a stark contrast to the rest of the area. Yellows, reds, whites, blues . . . the flowers were a testament of the spring that would follow in two months or so.
Jaelynn slid off her horse, and stepped into the field. Her hands were out by her sides, hovering above the flowers without touching them. It was as if she was touching them only in thought, and yet the warmth from her hands seemed to caress over the petals. Tristan watched her, and it was an image that would always remain in his mind.
She turned back to him. Her brown eyes seemed so full of color and life. Tristan dismounted. He walked towards her slowly.
"It's a change from the fort," he said with a shrug. She smiled, slowly until her mouth broke out an uncontained grin. She ran to him and Tristan caught her in his arms. She felt incredible in his arms, and he hugged her tight to his body. His felt her breath on his shoulder and neck.
He found himself kissing her. Oh, how he loved the feel of her lips. So soft, but alive with passion as she pressed her lips against his. Tristan moved his mouth over hers, down to her chin and further to her neck. She giggled.
Tristan pulled away. He searched her face. Laughter as he kissed her wasn't a good thing, he thought. She must have noticed his scowling bewildered look.
"Your beard," she said with a gasp. "It tickles." She rubbed his jawline with her hand. "Soft," she muttered. He closed his eyes as her hands slipped from his face to his neck. And then he heard her move away. He opened his eyes. She took his hand, and pulled him further into the field.
She plopped down on the ground, and looked up expectantly at him. Tristan sat next to her. She had a smile on her face, one of those excited, innocent smiles. It was almost too innocent, and Tristan wondered what was going on in her mind.
"What did you think when you first met me?" she asked. Tristan blinked. Her smile broadened.
"With the Saxons?" he asked. She nodded.
"I was just a girl," she said, which Tristan thought was funny. It was only a couple of months ago that he thought the same thing of her. "But still . . . ."
He nodded, and cleared his throat.
"I thought you were afraid of me." He smiled as he remembered it, how she'd flinched when he spoke or smiled at her.
"I was afraid of everything," she said, a little defensive.
He shook his head. "But you were brave. You came back to the camp—helped me escape."
She smiled timidly, as if trying to hide her pride of the memory. She leaned back and lay on her side. The ground was cold, but she didn't seem to mind it.
"How did you come to befriend the hawk?"
Tristan chuckled. "Curious today?"
She smirked at him. "You can ask me questions too." He planned to.
"She started following me, on a scouting trip," Tristan said. "I thought she was an enemy's."
Jaelynn laughed. "You don't trust anyone, do you?"
Tristan shrugged. "She was." Jaelynn's eyes widened. "Before they attacked, she squawked. I was ready for them." He remembered thinking how fortunate he was that the bird's cry had alerted him. "Her master was dead. I held my arm out to her, and she came to me."
"Really?" Jaelynn asked in awe.
Tristan nodded. "What'd you think when we met?" She grinned, probably at how quickly he changed to question her.
"I thought you would die," she said. "You were outnumbered. And the Saxons kept hitting you. After they killed my father, I thought they would eventually kill each of us." He marveled at how steady her voice was when she spoke of her father.
"They would have," he said.
"Yes," she said, grinning again. "I remember you telling me that. Not what a girl wants to hear." He chuckled with her, but his mind was still on her father.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop them," he said, "and save your father."
Jaelynn stared at him. Tristan found he had to look away, and his eyes focused on the flowers around them.
"I've never blamed you," he heard her say softly. "You tried to help, even though you could have been killed. I always thought it selfless of you." She sat up and shifted towards him. She gently touched his face, smiling as she looked at him. Tristan thought about kissing her again.
"What do the tattoos mean?"
Tristan laughed to himself. She could certainly keep him off-guard.
They sat in the field, talking and asking each other questions. Tristan reveled in its simplicity, and discovered more about Jaelynn. It made her dearer to him than before. That alone was a foreign feeling, but he treasured each new tidbit he learned. She seemed more complete with the details she told him.
It was late in the afternoon when they rode back to the Wall. They were nearing the lone tree. Tristan pulled up on the reins.
"Jaelynn," he called out. She turned and saw that he'd stopped, and halted her horse. "Do something for me."
"What?" She had a suspicious smile on her face, and Tristan knew she would be disappointed with what he was about to say. He drew a deep breath.
"Don't tell anyone about us," he said, "for now." Sure enough, her smile disappeared. The light dimmed in her brown eyes.
"Tristan, I know it seemed like a good idea when Hilden . . ."
"It's not . . . . I'm not ashamed of you," he said. "It's me."
She rolled her eyes.
"They'll talk about you," he said a little more urgently. "When they know about us."
"Tristan, they will always talk."
He scowled. "I know." That was his whole point.
He saw her blink several times. He half-wanted her to give up on him now, even after their tender moments not long ago, just to preserve her reputation. He knew it would be tainted as soon as anyone found out about them.
"Do you think I fault you for your actions?" she asked.
He sighed but didn't answer.
"Do you think you're an evil man because of what you've done?" she asked next.
"Everyone does," he snapped at her.
"Not me," she said with more force. "I know there are people who talk about you—maybe they hate you, because they don't understand."
He knew for a fact there were several people who hated him.
"Tristan, there will always be people who don't understand. No one will completely forget that you've killed. Some will always think of the rumors and stories they've heard about you. You just have to face that."
He frowned. He faced it every day. He faced the accusations, the gossiped words behind his back, the direct insults hurtled at him in public. He bore it all, and at night, he faced the reality of memories, captive in his own haunted dreams. Without realizing it, Tristan turned away from her, twisting his body so he could look blankly over the field.
"Maybe it's time you gave them something new to talk about."
"I don't want you to get hurt," he said, thinking she meant her as the new subject of gossip, and knowing she would be an easy target with him connected to her.
"I'm not talking about me," she said. She smiled at him, and nudged her horse closer to his. She reached out to touch him, but pulled back with a glance at the wall and the guards there. She faced him again. "If you want to keep it a secret for now, I'll will too. I'm still not sure how to handle Vanora and Lucinda."
He let out a breath he'd been holding.
"But I won't hide it forever." She grinned at him, and kicked her horse. She rode towards the gates of the fort, leaving Tristan behind. He didn't follow.
You just have to face it. Tristan thought he had been facing it. Give them something new to talk about. What? He scouted. He fought. He killed. There wasn't much there. He thought back to a few months ago, when Arthur had been frustrated with him for his constant working. Rest, Arthur had urged him. Well, that was a vicious cycle.
If he rested, he thought about his past. To avoid that, he worked. When he worked or scouted, people talked about him as a dark, cold-hearted man who played watch-dog for Arthur. So he avoided rest, and people—and ended up frustrating Arthur, and now Jaelynn too.
Face it.
Stop thinking about it. He knew he would always feel a sharp splinter in his mind and chest when someone mentioned Rome or how he was a killer. But maybe he could live with just that pain, and without adding to it.
How?
Think of something else.
Someone. He did have the hopes of a new life. Jaelynn made him happy, though he wasn't entirely sure how this would work between them. It didn't help that they hid it so far. But she was the good in his life. She made him want to be better.
Maybe that's what he needed to show now. Not for the gossipers' sake, but for his own.
He smirked at his own thoughts, and rode on into the town.
-0-0-
Jaelynn had changed back and forth in her two nicer dresses. She'd switched them four times now, and decided, for time's sake, she would go with the second one. It was a simple green dress, nothing fancy and with no embellishments. It fit her station and flattered her body enough that she didn't feel like a child.
She kept her hair down, and with a slight smirk, she braided one part. It was hidden within the rest of her hair, but it was her secret little clue about Tristan. She doubted anyone would even see it, much less figure out its meaning.
The dinner was being held at the round table. Jaelynn entered, and found everyone else seated. Her eyes immediately sought Tristan. He was in his usual spot. His eyes found hers, and he looked with a nod to the seat next to him.
She smiled.
"Jaelynn, come here!"
Lucinda. She sat by Gawain, with a spare seat empty between her on the other side. And next to that seat was Vanora. She glanced to Tristan. He gave the slightest nod.
She tried to hide her sigh and took the seat between the two women.
"There's something different about you, Jaelynn," Vanora said a few moments later. The woman scrutinized her with that suspicious look she often saw used on Vanora's children.
Jaelynn swallowed, and shrugged. A drink was placed before her, and Jaelynn quickly downed some of it. It wasn't wine, but it was the bitterest thing she'd ever tasted. It made her tongue feel rough, and though she chased it with a piece of bread, she could taste nothing but that bitterness for the next several minutes.
Vanora must have noticed her predicament. She leaned over to Jaelynn.
"Try not to choke at the king's table."
Jaelynn glared at her. Vanora laughed lightly.
"Tristan!" Jaelynn's head shot up as if her own name had been called. It was Galahad who spoke. She wondered why he winked at Gawain before continuing. "I've found a woman who will take you."
Tristan didn't even blink. He stared with the most bored expression ever on his face.
"Really," he said dryly. Galahad's loud announcement had everyone's attention. The king and Guinevere looked on as well. She saw the queen glance at her. Guinevere smiled with one eyebrow raised, and she glanced at Galahad, Tristan, then back to her. Jaelynn just shrugged.
"Beautiful," Galahad said, citing the mystery woman's qualities, "intelligent, hardly talks—she's perfect for you!"
Laughter rippled around the table. Jaelynn smiled tamely. Tristan shot her a brief glare behind the hair in front of his eyes.
"Who is she?" he asked. Jaelynn's heart lurched. What! But looking at Tristan, she caught his teasing glance in her direction.
Galahad and Gawain exchanged looks. Both stopped laughing, clearly not expecting Tristan's question. Galahad stammered.
"Um . . . she's, uh . . . her name?" He looked to Gawain for backup. Jaelynn smirked at the knights. There was no woman, and he hadn't even had a name to backup his jest.
"Your sister?" Tristan filled in.
Arthur spat out his drink, and Bors roared. Jaelynn couldn't hold back, and laughed, her voice joining Lucinda's, Vanora's, Guinevere's, Arthur's (once he recovered) and even the serving women in the room.
Galahad, needless to say, was quiet for much of the dinner.
"How goes your weapons training, Jaelynn?" Arthur asked. He sipped at his drink. Jaelynn had to stop herself from making a face; how could he drink that?
"Well," she answered. She felt slightly unnerved that everyone was watching her now. "But I have much room to improve."
"Galahad might disagree," Gawain said, and the youngest knight blushed. "Jaelynn nearly bested him."
"She did not!"
Jaelynn smiled.
"Have you a sword?" Guinevere asked. "I have one that might suit you perfectly, if you'd like." Jaelynn tried to respond, but Gawain beat her to it.
"Oh, she has a sword," he said. He glanced purposefully at Tristan. Jaelynn shifted in her seat. "She has Tristan's old sword." Suddenly, all eyes moved to Tristan. He just sat there, staring calmly back at them all. Jaelynn wondered how he did that.
"The long sword, with the curve at the end?" the queen clarified. Jaelynn nodded.
"That's too big for her!" Bors said. The man couldn't say a word quietly, could he? Vanora swatted at him.
"No, it's not," Tristan said. He looked slightly miffed; Jaelynn wondered why he was bothered by Bors' comment. Bors glared at the scout, but looked to Jaelynn for an answer.
She smiled sweetly. "It was an adjustment, but I find its reach gives me an advantage," she said. The men nodded along, a bit stunned by her words (except Tristan, who just grinned).
"Well," Lucinda piped up, "if you ask me, Jaelynn needs more training in the kitchen." Jaelynn rolled her eyes and uttered an exasperated gasp.
"Lucinda . . ." she mumbled.
"It's true, Jaelynn," Vanora said. She patted Jaelynn on the shoulder. "Your last loaf of bread could replace a stone in Hadrian's Wall."
Arthur about lost his drink again.
-0-0-
Arthur dabbed his mouth dry, ignoring the reproving look his wife shot him. He couldn't help it that people chose to say such things when he was drinking.
The rest of the dinner was quite enjoyable though, and Arthur determined that he had to do this more often. He missed the casual, relaxed friendships of his knights. Being king had responsibilities, but it didn't mean he had to sacrifice those closest to him.
The gathering came to an end, and as the knights and women started to leave, Arthur called out.
"Tristan, could you stay a moment?"
The scout nodded. Arthur watched as he nodded also to Jaelynn as she passed. Throughout the dinner, he noticed the two of them looking at each other frequently.
The last person left, and it was just Tristan and Arthur. They stood facing each other by the king's normal seat at the round table.
"Thank you for staying," Arthur said. Tristan grunted. "I have thought for awhile of something I need. There are few men I trust implicitly, Tristan. You are one of them."
The scout blinked.
"Thank you."
Arthur was about to say more, but Tristan's thanks caught him off guard. He tried to regain his thoughts.
"For some time, I have handled scouting reports individually, directing assignments as I see fit," he said. "It isn't something I can do anymore, and frankly, I fear I lack the energy to truly give the scouting and reports I receive justice. If it keeps up, I will only jeopardize the land's safety."
Tristan frowned slightly. He probably tried to anticipate what Arthur was saying. Always thinking.
"I would like to appoint you as my advisor over intelligence," he said finally. "You have skills, Tristan, that no other man has. It's not just your stealth and your abilities in scouting and spying. You know strategy, and you're an incredible fighter."
The only sign that Tristan gave him of having heard and understood him was to lean against the table. Arthur half-smiled at that.
"You don't have to answer now," he said, filling the scout's lack of response.
Tristan nodded. Is that a 'yes'?
"Do I need to go and scout myself?" he asked. Arthur shook his head.
"No," he said. "You know there are plenty of scouts. You can select who you want to send for whatever purpose. It's all in your hands, however you choose to coordinate it. If there are any concerns or threats, you and I will discuss them."
Tristan nodded at the clarification. Arthur saw a ghost of a smile on his face. The scout didn't move. He just leaned against the table, his head slightly bowed so his hair covered most of his face. He stayed still, and Arthur wondered if he was even breathing.
"You don't have to decide now," Arthur said. "You can tell me later, either way."
Tristan shook his head. Arthur's spirits fell.
"I don't need to," he said, extending a hand to Arthur. It was very formal, very . . . Roman, which surprised Arthur. But he took Tristan's hand and shook it. "I'll do it."
The grin could hardly be contained on Arthur's face.
"Excellent!"
For several reasons, Arthur was relieved. He felt some peace of mind, both for the land's safety, the people's safety, and for Tristan's happiness. It wouldn't be easy for Tristan, but if there's one thing he knew well about his scout—or intelligence advisor—it was that he enjoyed a challenge.