DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of King Arthur , although I wished I owned Tristan and Gawain
To those of you who reviewed immediately, I love you!
Pairings- I'm trying to make you guys guess a little. heee, I have a slightly large sense of deviousness (mwahaha) so hopefully I can bring out some surprises for you guys
Damara was silent as she was led down a dim hallway by the tall, and equally silent knight. The enormity of her situation was hitting her, again. Most of her crew was dead, the remaining ones were relying on her, and her newfound friend and sister was gone, possibly dead, or back with her people.
Shit, she thought. I completely forgot about Annuska. And considering how she had just found her long lost sister for the first time of her life, her captivity must have affected her hard. Then again she was mostly unconscious for the most of it.
Lost in thought, she didn't notice that the taciturn knight had stopped and was now listening to a thickset servant.
"Oof" she said, blinking stupidly as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly".
Something like a smirk crossed his face, too quickly for Damara to be sure.
"I'm fine" Turning to the servant, he said "Jols, what is it?"
The servant, Jols, answered steadily, looking at Damara curiously "There aren't any available rooms, or at least clean ones. To clean one, it would take me days, let alone three. The only clean ones in the fort belong to you knights. That's all I'm sayin' Tristan".
Tristan, Damara thought. Nice name.
"Fine Jols. I'll take her back and let Arthur sort it out" the knight said dismissively.
Damara's head was starting to droop from fatigue. The walls and ceiling became blurry as she was escorted back to the hall.
Arthur looked up as they reentered the hall. He had been deep in thought, staring at the empty seats around him.
Damara heard Tristan say something about the rooms and "letting up his". She didn't really understand much. She was mostly asleep on her feet.
"Arthur, look at her. She's almost dead, she's so tired" Tristan said.
"Whose rooms are nearest?" Arthur asked, seeing Damara's condition.
"Gawain's, Lancelot's, and Galahad's" Tristan replied, understanding immediately. A noise at the door interrupted him before he could speak further. There stood Dagonet and Galahad, Hana leaning sleepily on Dagonet's shoulder and Kirima out cold in Galahad's arms. The young knight looked slightly perplexed and embarrassed by his situation. Tristan smirked slightly.
Arthur looked at them for a second, then addressed them "Galahad, you put her in.." he was interrupted by a drowsy voice. Hana spoke again, clearer this time "Her name is Kirima. I'm Hana" she said, her voice thick with sleep.
Arthur nodded, acknowledging her even as she fell back to sleep on Dagonet's shoulder. "Galahad, put Kirima in your room. Don't argue" he said as he saw Galahad's mouth open. "You know that you can find somewhere else to sleep. Dagonet, take Hana, and put her in" he was interrupted again, this time by Dagonet.
"Do you really think it would be a wise idea to put an attractive woman in Lancelot's bed, Arthur?" Dagonet said, sarcasm and knowledge of Lancelot's past combined in his voice.
Arthur looked exasperated. "Fine then, put her in your room. Tristan, put Damara in Gawain's room. You can tell him to stay away from there down at the tavern" Arthur finished, exhausted by the sleeping arrangements he didn't have time for.
Tristan, turning, saw Damara about to fall over, and quickly scooped her up in his arms. She was light, he noticed, but not too light, he thought as she moved in his arms.
Moving fast, he came swiftly to Gawain's door. Kicking it open, he moved across the room and placed Damara gently on the bed. She moved over, sleeping on her stomach and completely giving over into dreams. Tristan walked quietly out of the room, closing the door softly, even though he doubted she would wake up.
Down at the tavern, Gawain was already slightly drunk. Lancelot was just beginning, and Bors wasn't drunk at all, but stuck with one of his many bastards. Tristan smirked.
Gawain had started to shout for a song from Vanora, a girl on his lap missing for once. Tristan thought he looked melancholy, which was entirely unusual for Gawain. He would usually be talking or teasing Galahad, and betting with Lancelot. Tonight he just looked sad. Oh well, Tristan thought, he's going to be even sadder when he finds out that there's a beautiful woman in his bed and he's not allowed to go near her.
Tristan walked over to Gawain. Gawain didn't appear to notice him, but stared blearily at the wall opposite him.
"Gawain" He said.
Gawain didn't respond. Tristan leaned down.
"GAWAIN" he said again, directly into his ear.
Gawain jerked then, looking up.
"oh, trisan," he slurred. Clearly he was further along. His head was going to hurt in the morning. He squinted at Tristan, grinning idiotically.
"Gawain, you need to listen to me" Tristan said slowly, irritated. "Damara is in your room, sleeping. You need to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Alright?"
Gawain grinned like a child, "Understood" he said.
Tristan shook his head as he walked away. Gawain's mood had changed from melancholy to ecstatic in a matter of seconds. Honestly, he was crazy.
As the evening wore on, Gawain's drunken state was headed steadily south. He had passed out by the time Lancelot finished gambling with some off-duty romans. They were cursing him under their breath. Tristan managed to catch some of it, smiling slightly as he heard the words. And they call themselves pristine Christians, he smirked.
Galahad had arrived a while after Tristan had, settling himself between Gawain and Lancelot. He hadn't gotten as far as Gawain, but then again he never did unless her was rejected by a woman or if he was the subject of the knights' jokes.
Bors came over as Lancelot shoved Gawain, trying to at least wake him up enough to find alternate sleeping arrangements, considering his room wasn't available.
"He's out til' who knows when" Bors said cheerily. "Try luggin' him over your shoulder and dumpin' 'im somewhere". Jols chose that moment to appear, staring at the situation dourly
"I managed to prepare a room for the displaced knights. There's blankets and such, but no bed" Jols said, frowning at Gawain's obviously inebriated state.
"Fine" said Lancelot. "This is certainly a change. Instead of a woman, I'm lugging home a sack of ale" he disappeared into the gloom with a grin. " Oh well buddy, guess there's just no fun for us tonight"
The Next Morning
Gawain awoke slowly, wishing the world to shutup and leave him be. His head was pounding, and he felt sick. He didn't even know where he was. He looked up slowly, risking lightheadedness.
He was in a small, nondescript room with no apparent furniture. He was covered in several thick blankets, and was apparently still fully dressed.
As he was looking around, he noticed two other piles of blankets, meaning he hadn't been alone. Gawain was incredibly irritated, and he only wished to be in his own room where he knew that he had some herbs for hangovers. Making up his mind, he got up, albeit slowly and with much groaning, and had started towards his room.
Damara had awoken that morning to weak British sunlight and a feeling of refreshment. She had been lying on a soft bed, in an obviously male room. Then she remembered all of the sleeping arrangement debacle that had gone on the other night.
She must be in that attractive blond man's room, she though with a smile. Oooh, this was going to be tempting. She started to stare around the room, noticing everything, until a knock on the door disturbed her thoughts. She sighed, rising and opening the door. There stood the squire Jols, whom she remembered from last night.
"My master was wondering if you were wanting of anything" he said almost shy.
She smiled. Thinking, she looked down. And saw the dirty, bloody, and all together tangled mess that she had become.
She looked up again. Jols waited patiently.
"A bath would be lovely" she said, slightly wistful.
"Right away, Lady" he said, bowing and striding down the hall.
Damara had only waited a few minutes when a knock sounded on her door. Opening it, she found men carrying a large tub. She hastily moved out of their way and directed them where to put it.
Honestly, she thought, the man needed to clean. The only place where there was room enough for the tub was almost directly behind the door. Every other place had his armor or a large chest that dominated most of the room.
The men set the tub down, returning quickly with basins of hot water, something Damara hadn't had the pleasure of for a long time. The tub was quickly filled, and Damara sighed with relief as she closed the door behind the men, after having thanked them profusely for going to all that effort.
Easing herself out of her bloodstained clothes, she was delighted to discover one of her chests on the floor. There were obvious scratch marks around the lock where the romans had tried to break into it when they had captured the Amazons. Damara sighed, letting the sorrow flow away. Right now she only wanted to relax. She reached down to her discarded clothes, retrieving a key from one of the hidden pockets that she had made herself.
Opening the chest, she found clothes, a few weapons, and some of her herbals. Unrolling a wadded ball of cloth, she found exactly what she was looking for.
"Soap!" she said happily. Soap her mother had bought her when they had been in foreign lands. It had been hot, but the natives bathed regularly, and because of her rank, she had been privy to some of the most wonderful of spices, cloths, and soaps.
This one smelled of a flower called lilies, like her mother's name.
She turned and stood up, walking over to the tub, soap ball in hand. Putting her foot forward, she gingerly stepped into the bath and sat down. The warmth of the water enveloped her, the tub allowing her to stretch out her legs. She sighed. Pure bliss, she thought, as she started lathering up the soap. Soon the bath was covered in bubbles. Giggling she played with them for a little while, washing off the grime as she did. With a sigh, she submerged herself completely.
Gawain opened his door slowly, cursing the light that his room allowed. He had meant to get some kind of drape so that this situation could be avoided, but it was meant for another day. Slowly, he eased himself onto the bed. Why did he always do this? Drink himself to oblivion, always knowing what the consequences would be.
The swirling sound of the water in his room was soothing to him, helping him go to sleep. He closed his eyes drowsily.
And snapped them right back open. Water? Why would there be a sound of water in his room.
Headache pushed aside, Gawain sat up, peering around the room like an owl. There. In the corner. There was a tub, full of water. Why was there a tub, covered in soap suds, in his room. Arthur and Jols knew that Gawain and the rest of the knights bathed only when they had to, when covered in blood after battle.
As Gawain stared at the tub, he also noticed a medium sized chest sitting in the middle of his floor. Whose chest is that? He thought, wondering.
A slightly bewildered "Good morning" reached Gawain's head before he could ponder more. Looking over, he saw the amazon from the day before, Damara.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" he asked, not too mad. It wasn't everyday when there was a beautiful naked Amazon in your room.
She stuck out her chin at his tone. "Arthur lent it to me, as a host. There weren't any others to stay in. Besides, he said you'd be fine getting another place to sleep".
He stared at her. She stared back, just as unwilling to give in. Their eyes were boring into each others'. Gawain's were starting to burn.
"Do you often interrupt women when they're bathing?" she asked, a slight smirk playing about her lips.
"Do you often bathe in strange mens' rooms?" he shot back.
"Yes, all the time. It's a habit of mine" she answered, straight-faced.
He choked, coughing with laughter. She grinned insolently from her position in the tub.
Gawain moaned, clutching his head as his newly returned headache said hello.
"Are you alright?" she asked, concern suddenly written all over her features.
"Nooo" came the response from the bed.
Damara but her lip. She half wanted to laugh, half wanted to get him something for his head.
"Here let me get you something" she said, starting to rise from the pool, nudity forgotten.
He hadn't.
"No, it's fine, I'll go get something from Jols!" he said, springing up and striding out of the door at the sound of swirling water. This left Damara with a state of almost smugness. She had made him laugh, after all.
Returning her focus to her bath, she remembered her sister, and the events of the past few months...
AN- yay! Fun fun! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter, but I have tests all week. Cheers!