Chapter 3
"Pleasant and Rude Awakenings"
Dagonet woke up in a haze of warmth and comfort. He smiled to himself as he felt the woman wrapped around him. Wrapped around him? His smile grew larger. He could think of no better way to start a day than this.
He lazily opened his eyes to look at Rhiannon's sleep-smoothed face, her body totally relaxed, her mind lost in peaceful slumber.
Sometime in the night, she had climbed under the heavy robe. It struck him that she had managed to do so without waking him. His wounds, and sickness had certainly taken their toll he mused. Last night was the first un-fevered sleep he had enjoyed in sometime. He was truly healing now.
He knew the room had grown chilly throughout the night as the fire had died. Gods knew the woman had probably been too exhausted to stoke the fire, and so had opted to spend the night in the warmth of his bed. He wondered how she might feel about this when she woke up, considering that this was far from the most suitable place for her to spend the night. He was pleased that she was snuggled into him however.
Indeed, she had molded herself to him, he noted with rising pleasure. His arm was still holding her to him, her face pillowed between his shoulder and chest. One of her arms had snaked behind his that cradled her, her other arm had found its way across his broad chest. One leg was lying over his, the other was contoured along the side of him. Her soft, full breasts pushed against his side. He felt himself growing hard for her as he had the night before.
He felt blissful in his comfort, even as sore as he was. He was in the act of pressing Rhiannon even nearer, when the bare skin of her thigh shifted over his leg. Dagonet jolted in surprise. He had thought that at least the sheet still separated their bodies till she had moved, and what of her dress? Surely she had not unclothed herself? He rubbed a tentative hand over her waist and back, but felt the material of her gown. A bit confused, he continued his exploration somewhat lower, and encountered the material of her gown bunched at her hips. He made the mistake of dropping his hand to the soft skin of her hip and just that quickly his body raged for her. He had been hard before, but this was merciless. His mind conjured images of her under him, wet and opened to him... her lust darkened eyes reflecting his face as he pushed inside her tight body... loving her till neither one could take anymore.
Love?
He swiftly raised his eyes to the ceiling, and stared at the tiles swallowing hard. Everything was surreal to him. He had been bombarded by news of death, Saxons, Woads, Romans...and then there was this woman maddening him. He knew next to nothing about her, yet here he was tangled with her in his bed. Dagonet never brought women to his chamber, but rather took his needs to the beds at the back of the tavern.
Rhiannon wasn't here borne out of that particular need though, and she was certainly not a whore to be bedded in a tavern. She overwhelmed him by her entire presence, and he had sensed her desire for him though that continued to surprise him. Why me? He marveled.
He was often quiet, and did not stand out as the other knights in appearance. He was rougher, and older than all but Bors. It seemed to good to be true.
Tenderness had somehow already sprung up between them, and she was utterly artless. He did not doubt that she genuinely cared for him. She had to for all that she had gone through for him. She appealed to his heart as no other had, and he admitted that it was not only her body he wanted, but all of her. She was beguiling to him.
Dagonet smiled, and painfully stretched a little. He couldn't help but wonder if she realized, on a practical level, the naivete of seeking sleep in a naked mans bed with her skirts bunched nearly to her waist. With her legs as they were, he could feel...Oh dear Gods! He thought helplessly. He absolutely could not think of that part of her, and yet it could not be helped. With her thighs parted as they were, she was hot and moist against him. His eyes roamed over the ceiling desperately, as his tongue wetted his dried lips. The worst of it was that he knew he had put himself in this predicament, but what was he to do? He could not bear the idea of her sleeping on the floor, particularly after all she had done for him. She was going to drive him mad. It was as simple as that. He could see it now. Galahad, and Bors had warned him. His need for her was hellish, and growing worse by the second. He would never force any woman, but he could not allow her to stay in his bed again. It was simply not safe for her virtue. I am only a man, he thought.
He could hardly believe that his need for her body had turned him so suddenly irrational. This was not like him at all. He determined to be content as they were; he would not question that. Rhiannon was intimately wound about him as a lover would be, her gentle face turned to him in total, trusting sleep. His chamber was becoming lighter by the moment. He closed his eyes and wished the sun would stop in its path. Her body was torturing him.
He let his mind wander again for the sake of his sanity. Who is this woman? He asked himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. Her dress was made of a fabric to fine for any of the villagers. The old laundress Elspeth had vocalized that point only the night before. She had to be Roman, yet she did not act as Romans were wont, her attitude was one of unrestraint, caring... and her name...decidedly not a Roman name. Still, if she were a woman of Marius' household as here clothing attested, she would have to be Roman. Surely he would not have taken in a Britain, and all Britains were Woads. Dagonet raised a hand to his head that he was afraid would be aching along with the rest of him soon. He had so many questions that he needed to ask her when she woke, for his own piece of mind.
He felt Rhiannon stir again, and he lowered his gaze to her. He smiled at the beautiful mess of curls that was framing her face. He felt an urge to kiss her smooth forehead, but found he couldn't bend low enough from his pillows without hurting himself. Dag reasoned that he would likely only succeed in waking Rhiannon should he make some sound in discomfort, and hewas not quite ready to part with her softness, and warmth.
He wondered with some amusement what she might do if she woke to find him trying to kiss her? His mischievous smile only grew as his thoughts took a more wicked turn. What might she do if she awoke to find him taking her up on her unintended invitation, his demanding body on hers, pressing her into his bed? His aching, weak body was making him hate the Saxons more and more. Still, had he been physically able to do such a thing to her, he would not. It was not who he was. He had just breathed out a sigh of sufferance, when a hard rapping was heard on his door.
Rhiannon jolted awake. Knocking...Rhiannon looked up to Dagonet's face to find his steady, stern gaze looking back. A voice called to her...
"Rhiannon, we must speak at once."It was Arthur's voice on the other side of the heavy door.
Dagonet frowned. What reason would Arthur have for coming here at dawn? It did not bode well.
Rhiannon extricated herself quickly from the large warrior, but with a great deal of regret. A high, hot blush colored her cheeks as she yanked the skirt of her gown down in her exit from his warm bed. She had realized upon moving that her dress had bunched up in the night around her naked hips, and her embarrassment was immense. She hadn't bothered with under-things, not even a shift lately, and so she had awoken curled around him in a compromising way, with her bare flesh pressed against this man. Gods knew what he must think of her for her behavior. Her mind berated her. Why had she slept in his bed? Yet, despite all propriety, when she awoke in his arms, she was not shocked by it. He felt so good against her. His dark eyes upon her had caused something hot and liquid to pool in her stomach. Thinking of lying with him as she had, her most intimate of places damp against him, only amplified the feeling. These stirrings were new to her, and though she feared them a little, she wanted to explore these new sensations. It is just as well, she thought dismally. Besides, she knew as Dagonet did that Arthur would not be here for some trivial reason.
She could only hope as she opened the door that there was nothing amiss. That hope was erased as she looked upon the grim faces of Arthur, Bors, and Galahad in the gloomy passageway. "My lady, it is imperative that we speak. May we enter?" Arthur's voice was low, and swift, his face a mask.
"Of course, please..." Rhiannon stepped away, and gestured the men in.
Arthur turned to Bors before taking a step. "See that we are not disturbed." Bors simply grunted a reply as he hefted himself taller. With Bors standing guard, Rhiannon felt certain that no one would even think of looking at that door, let alone touching it. A fleeting smile curved her lips before her feeling of dread began to replace the heat in her belly. The stress from the two men before her was palpable.
Dagonet was simply watching and waiting. Something was wrong. He could gauge the tension in his long-time companions easily. Whatever this was, it was not good at all. He cursed his helplessness. If she was in danger, he needed to protect her. What could he do like this? His anger at himself was multiplying quickly.
Meanwhile, Rhiannon could think of no reason for Arthur and Galahad's presence. If someone was hurt, and her skills were needed, they would have told her at the door. Were someone dead, they would have wanted Dagonet, and not her. Yet here they were, with Bors standing guard. Surely it hadn't come upon them to wonder if she'd had anything to do with the horrendous events at Marius' estate? She knew she could not have committed any offenses here either. She had not left Dagonet's side for weeks. While she had been at Marius' home, she had strove to keep a low profile with a fair amount of success when one considered how small his household was. If she had learned anything at all in her life, it was how to stay under the radar of those who were potentially dangerous. Rome, after all, was full of dangers.
"What is it?" Rhiannon asked, looking to either man for explanation.
Dag saw the curiosity and dread mingling on her face. His own sense of unease heightened.
"The Woads have escorted a Roman senator, Murrelus Volumnius, to Hadrians Wall. They saw his ship and surrounded him, as well as his entourage as soon as they came ashore. The senator requested to see me specifically, and he was promptly delivered. He told me that he came here for no other purpose than to find his niece. He said that she was here as a companion to Marius' wife." Arthur's expression was a knowing one.
"I am the niece of the man you speak of.", Rhiannon confirmed. Dag noted that she had looked stunned ever since she had heard the senators name. How he wished to go to her, and yet here was the truth at last. She was a Roman, and kin to a senator no less. The saying 'sleeping with the enemy' could be no less apt, he thought ruefully. Still...she looked somehow strong and vulnerable all at once, and it pulled at his heart. She stood to her full height that was a good foot under both Arthur and Galahad.
He wanted nothing more than to go to her, and wrap his arms about her, to hold her back to his chest and lend her his presence. It impressed him though that she always held herself so proudly.
Rhiannon had noted that Arthur's face was neutral, while Galahad had turned his troubled face to the floor. She almost dreaded to look back at Dagonet. She was partly Roman, but she was not the enemy of the people here. Surely Dagonet would see that. Besides, she was only part Roman, as was Arthur. She tentatively turned her head to the big man watching her. He was eyeing her carefully, and she tried desperately to discern his thoughts, but his sombre face gave nothing away. Her heart fell. Would it matter after all?
"Why did you not speak of this before?", Galahad asked. Her head turned away from the large knight in the bed and back to the one in front of her.
"Sir Knight, I did not speak of it because I did not think it important." Rhiannon saw him raise his eyes to the ceiling as he scoffed at her. She reigned in her aggravation, and patiently continued. "I did not expect that my uncle would ever seek me out. We are family by blood, but not by heart. He has made it clear to me repeatedly that the best place for me to be is where he is not. I have always honored that. I am confounded that he is here. I can think of no purpose for it."
The expression on Galahad's face let her know that something caustic was about to come out of his mouth. She was fond of Galahad, but he was undoubtedly the most temperamental man at this fort. She braced herself for whatever scorn he had to let loose with, but his anger never came. Arthur had touched his arm at the same time that Galahad saw the pointed look he was receiving from Dag. He closed his mouth.
Dagonet could feel the fear coming off of her. Whatever threat this senator caused, he would have to protect her. After all that she had done for him, he could do no less and be her champion if this Roman did in fact bring trouble. Wounds or no wounds, he would not be stopped.
He took in how dissheveled, and rumpled she was. In need of a bath as Gawain had taunted, and a bit on the underfed side, but at least she no longer appeared as if she might faint away from exhaustion. That was truly an improvement. All in all, she was lovely.
"You can think of no reason at all that he would come in search of you?' Dagonet's voice was husky, and even.
Rhiannon turned to him once more, and looked him over. He had shoved the blankets away from his chest, and his healing, but angry wounds, were there for all to see. With a thoughtful sigh, she lowered her eyes and walked to his bedside. With light fingers she traced the skin immediately outside the wound on his chest...the worst he had been given. She raised her eyes to his at his quick intake of breath. "Your bandages?", she questioned softly.
Without breaking eye contact, Dagonet merely motioned to a pile of discarded fabric in the floor. He waited for her to answer his question.
"I cannot." Rhiannon ran absent fingers through her tangled curls.
Dagonet nodded almost imperceptibly. He wanted to tell her all the comforts that were on his tongue, but all he could do was reach for her hand. As he squeezed her hand tightly in his larger one, he damned the fact that she was part Roman. Would this uncle of hers take her away to Rome? He can try, Dagonet thought viciously. He was amazed at his own anger, but supposed that he , like Galahad, had simply had enough of the Romans. He shook his head slightly as he realized that was not his true reason at all. He could see the fear in this woman's face and it disturbed him. Her eyes were solidly on his and filled with uncertainty. He tried silently to communicate to her through his eyes and his touch, all that he felt, that he would shield her from whatever might come. He hoped with all his strength that she knew he would never allow harm to come to her.
Galahad watched the gentle exchange between Dagonet and Rhiannon. He knew his brother was likely in love with their newfound, and talented healer, but wondered at what cost. That the woman returned his affection was evident, but that senator waiting for her even now, had claim to her. The Roman had not made his intentions entirely clear, but he did have a purpose for his visit. That much was made clear. Would Arthur intercede if the man tried to take her away unwillingly? A smirk curved his lips as he looked at the stone floor. Did he honestly have to ask? What bothered him however was to what length Dag might go to- the danger he mightcause to his mending body- to aid her. A Roman might yet be the cause of his death, he thought with venom. He cared for Rhiannon and respected her as all did, but not at the expense of his brothers blood in exchange for a Romans.
Arthur had been silently watching the scene at Dags bedside carefully. He too wondered just what this might mean for Dagonet. He knew that this could turn into a bad situation very quickly. An entourage of Romans had already turned the atmosphere volatile. Guinevere, and Gawain had been left in the great hall mainly to ensure their guests safety. If one of his knights died at the hand of a Roman, particularly one so hurt as Dag, there could be no protecting them...or Rhiannon. The Romans had come unarmed in a show of good faith however, and the senator did not seem likely to cause trouble, and had made that clear when they met. Now was the time to speak. This had to be faced.
"Senator Volumnius has actually made known to us, in part at least, his reasons in coming here. He awaits your presence in the Great Hall."
"Rhiannon's eyes had grown wide as she turned and watched Arthur as he spoke. Dagonet stiffened.
Arthur began speaking to them of all that Volumnius had told them. Galahad saw the ire rising in his bed-ridden friend, and the disbelief, followed by anger in Rhiannon. He had been present when Arthur and the senator had spoken, as had most of the castles inhabitants who had been alerted to Romans approach. These were exactly the reactions he expected. Now the only thing left was to see where all of this would go. He only shook his head as Arthur continued on, explaining the matter to his captive audience.
Rhiannon somehow managed to nearly topple Bors on her way out of the chamber door. Once Arthur had finished speaking, she had been left in such a rage that all she cared for was getting to the main hall. Her legs flew. The only thing that had allowed her to be practically running down the hall was the element of surprise. Dagonet had been aghast at what Arthur had told them, and she was up and out the door before anyone could stop her.
Her mind was screaming. This was nonsense! When had this man ever been concerned for her! She was not a child to be bullied!
In her anger she never noticed Arthur and Galahad behind her striding swiftly to keep up. Arthur would not attempt to stop her anger...yet.
Dagonet was furiously struggling to get himself out of bed. Sitting up alone hurt badly, but he was managing. Getting his legs off of the bed was an entirely different matter. As if the pain shooting through him wasn't enough, he was so weak he doubted that he could stand. He had to get to the main hall somehow. To hell with her Roman blood. There was something between them, and he couldn't let it go. He had to get to her.
Sweat beaded on his face as he fought through the pain, and managed to get the heavy robe and sheet aside. The cold air hit him as he continued his battle to get his legs over the bed. His feet touched the floor, and he held his teeth gritted even as he attempted to breath deeply. He realized he was being watched. Raising his drawn face, he was greeted by the sight of Bors, with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Come on Dag. Lets get you dressed." The large man hauled his friend to his feet. "That woman of yours is going to need you."
Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed this. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to do that. Thanks to everyone reading this as well. Please keep reviewing. From today forth, any reviews I get I will try to answer at the end of my chapters. Thanks again.
From: JustQuinn ()
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It´s been a week. Will you update anytime soon? I check for an update every day and beginning to feel a bit frustrated. Has something happened? Please, don´t let this be it!
I´ll still be on the lookout for you. Cheers.
I am so sorry about the delay, but this chapter took me awhile. This is a point where the story will turn a bit, but keep in mind I said fluff in the description, therefore it is nothing drastic. I just wanted to make sure I had this right, and that I enjoyed reading it. I apologize again, and bless you for being so loyal. I can't thank you enough.